


The Fellowship of the Thing

by Galadriel1010



Series: The Clash of Worlds [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: reel_torchwood, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 11:52:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel1010/pseuds/Galadriel1010
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many years ago, Jack Harkness found a strange object, which he promptly forgot all about. Now, though, he must go on a quest to use it to save the world. Torchwood rewrite of The Lord of the Rings, the Fellowship of the Ring</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fellowship of the Thing

**Author's Note:**

> **Title**: The Clash of Worlds: The Fellowship of Neccessity  
> **Author**: Fiwen-Galadriel1010  
> **Prompt**: The Lord of the Rings, the Fellowship of the Ring  
> **Character/Pairing(s)**: Torchwood team + OCs and the Doctor and Brigadier. Jack/Ianto  
> **Rating**: Teen  
> **Warnings**: None  
> **Spoilers**: Spoilers for the Lord of the Rings.  
> **Word Count:** 32121  
> **Disclaimer for TW and the movie you are using**: I do not own Torchwood or the Lord of the Rings. Torchwood belongs to the BBC, as does the Doctor, the Brigadier and UNIT, the storyline belongs to Professor Tolkein's estate and New Line Cinema, and Brian Cox belongs to himself. The original characters have disowned me  
> **Summary**: Many years ago, Jack Harkness found a strange object, which he promptly forgot all about. Now, though, he must go on a quest to use it to save the world.  
> **Beta**: Gogo_didi  
> **Author's Notes**: I really feel like I aught to apologise for the gratuitous abuse of cliches. That or just smile smugly and say "yes, I went there".

The noise of the river was calming as the dusk settled around him for the third day after he left Strasbourg. He knew that to get here so fast he'd pushed himself too hard, but this serene region was a blessed relief after the utter devastation he'd witnessed and experienced through the rest of Europe. War had ripped out the continent's heart and left it battered and bleeding on a thousand battlegrounds, from the streets of the ghettos to the beaches of Normandy. Here, though, all was quiet and still apart from the sussurus of the leaves moving in the wind and the rush of water through the shallow river bed. It was an idyllic spot even when the world was at peace, but when all he had to compare it to was war it seemed like heaven.

 

He shrugged his bag off and ducked into the shelter of a weeping willow near the bank, pausing to let his eyes grow accustomed to the darkness under there. Once he could see more than merely vague shadows, he dropped his bag against the tree trunk and pulled his filthy clothes off, dumping them in a pile next to his bag. The water was extremely cold, forcing a gasp out of him despite his best efforts, and he cleaned himself off as fast as he could.

 

Back in the shadow of the tree, he emptied the contents of his bag onto the floor and found two blankets, one cleaner than the other, and wrapped the cleaner one around himself, sitting on the other. Darkness had fallen fully and he could see nothing beyond his shelter, or even inside it. With a heavy sigh, he wrapped the blanket tighter around himself and settled down to sleep.

 

It was the light that awoke him, a glow like fire that dragged him back into his memories so that, just for a moment, he was back in Berlin dodging allied bombs and enemy police. He reacted without realising it and dropped to a crouch just inside the protection of the hanging branches, gun in one hand whilst the other pulled the branches aside enough for him to be able to look outside. Quiet reigned once more, though – he was alone, apart from the glowing something across the river. “Why me?” he muttered, chucking his gun onto the pile of discarded blankets.

 

Back into the water, now even colder after night had taken away the sun's minimal warming effect, hesplashed his way across, only just keeping his footing and saving himself from a dunking. The rocks underfoot were uneven and occasionally sharp, and he really didn't want to fall onto them, even if the (icy cold) water would cushion his fall slightly.

 

Whatever had woken him in its landing was still glowing, although its light had dimmed slightly. He flicked water at it and sat down next to it when the water just ran off. It was warm to the touch, but possibly only compared to the temperature of the river, and was vibrating minutely, just enough that he could tell it was doing it, but not enough that he could actually feel it. The glow dimmed further as it warmed more in his hands and then increased when he carried it across the river.

 

Back in his grotto, he turned it over and studied it in the light cast by a single match. The brief look he got was enough to tell him that it was a flat-ish box, about twice as long as it was wide, curving smoothly widthways and flat on each end. There was a series of buttons, which he refrained from pressing, on one end, and a selection of holes on the other end. The match burnt nearly down to his fingers and he blew it out, blinking as the light blindness descended, the only point of reference he had was the very, very dim glow of the box in his hands. Sighing again, he shoved it into the bottom of his still empty bag and curled up under the blanket, trying to get warm again.

 

**********

It was dark again sixty five years later, although much longer for him, when he stood under the arch of the Welsh National War Memorial in Cathays Park. A cool breeze drifted through his hair again, but although it was colder than that one had been, his heavy coat kept him from feeling it this time. He wasn't alone, either, although his companion hadn't said anything since his discrete arrival through the dusk, just waited in silence until he was needed. It was one of the things that Jack l...

 

“I was in the Black Forest when peace was declared,” he announced to cover his thoughts, voice ringing around the memorial. “I'd been there just over a month, sheltering in the Wutach Gorge.”

 

Ianto saw it for the invitation it was and came to stand beside him, head tilted back to look at the stars, haloed by the plinth above them. “Was there much fighting there?” he asked softly, the back of his hand brushing against the cuff of Jack's sleeve in an offer of comfort.

 

He brushed his fingers against Ianto's and shook his head. “None. The mountains kept everyone out. Sometimes, a lot of the time really, it was easy to forget that there was a war being fought at all. It was so serene.”

 

“Why were you there?”

 

A shrug somehow laced his fingers into Ianto's. “Because they sent me there. I was to scout out the land, find the best route through into the heart of Germany. I kinda feel like they forgot about me.”

 

Ianto chuckled and tightened his grip on Jack's fingers. “What was it like there, were you alone?”

 

“Yeah,” he turned and tugged Ianto with him and they walked down the avenue towards the grass. He sat down and pulled Ianto down with him and they lay side by side on the grass, their fingers laced together and anchoring him. Trees above them and stars beyond. “It was like heaven,” he sighed to the sky. “I went through hell to get there and found heaven. Oh I wish I could show you,” he chuckled. “It was spring, and the river was icy cold with snow melt from the mountains, and the flowers were coming into bloom. I slept in the shelter of a huge willow tree, so big that it kept me dry when it rained. I'd not see another soul for weeks, but I saw wild deer and caught fish from the river. If heaven is a place on Earth, it's there. The most exciting thing to happen was this box... I haven't thought about it in years, it fell the first night I was there.” He frowned and searched through his memory. “It was so long ago... I never found out what it was, but I brought it back with me and it was stored in the archives. I think it was in London...”

 

Ianto propped himself up on one elbow and supported himself with his other hand on Jack's chest. “We could have a look,” he suggested. “See if it survived, and if they ever found out what it was.”

 

“Yeah, I probably should,” he agreed with a sigh. “Come back down here and stop thinking about work.”

 

Ianto smiled as he obeyed and rested his head on Jack's chest.

 

**********

 

Ianto dried his hands off and emerged from the kitchen, nearly bumping into Jack in the hall. “Jack, have you...” a familiar grinding noise filled the flat and his hands clenched in the towel. “Oh shit.”

 

“It might not be that bad...” he suggested, shifting Ianto aside so that he could get into the living room to see the TARDIS materialise. “Maybe he's just come to say 'hello' and offer us a cup of tea.”

 

Ianto leaned into him and his sigh made his back shudder against Jack's chest. “Don't be gone too long,” he told him, forcing cheer into his voice. “And don't... mmph.”

 

He curled one hand around the back of Jack's neck and sighed against his lips, sagging into Jack's arms. Jack's arms were tight around him and didn't loosen as the doors opened and they gained an audience, even as their lips parted and Jack turned to look at him and Ianto's forehead pressed against his shoulder. “Doctor.”

 

The visitor sat down on the sofa and leaned forwards to look at them, standing in the doorway. “Jack, Ianto.”

 

“Do you need me?” Jack asked softly, loosening his grip on Ianto. He hated himself for it, but if the Doctor needed him it would be because it was a situation where only a fixed point could survive, and he just couldn't take Ianto into that.

 

The Doctor sniffed and tilted his head to look at them, but, of course, didn't answer the question. “Sixty five years ago, Jack.”

 

“Not for me,” he pointed out.

 

“War is coming, Jack. War is coming because sixty five years ago, they lost something they need to conquer this planet and this galaxy. You know what I'm talking about, don't you Jack?”

 

“The box...” he straightened up and slipped his arm lower around Ianto's waist. “It was lost, it was in the archives at Canary Wharf.”

 

“No it wasn't, Jack. It's under your nose in Cardiff.”

 

Jack swallowed and looked at Ianto. “What do we do?”

 

“Don't tell anyone it's here,” he instructed, jumping to his feet. “Keep it secret, and keep it safe. Find it, though. And wait for my call. I'm going back to UNIT.”

 

“Wait,” Ianto called. “Shouldn't we destroy it?”

 

“No, not yet. It's the only thing that can destroy them, as well as the only thing that can destroy you,” he called over his shoulder. “Just keep it safe.”

 

“Was that enigmatic, or just annoying?” Ianto asked with a sigh. “I have a really bad feeling about this.”

 

 

Jack waved up at the window and blew Ianto a kiss before he unlocked the car, chuckling when the kiss made him drop the curtains back into place. They were so much closer since the disaster that the 456's invasion had been – not withstanding the rather rash and hurried civil partnership when Ianto's condition worsened. Oh yeah, bad move or what? Still... Ianto sometimes wore the ring. Not when they were likely to see anyone, he had to admit, but he wore it. Jack, of course, didn't have one, because Ianto had been in hospital and Jack had been holding onto the hope that he'd survive and choose one like Jack had chosen for him, but then he'd got out of hospital a month later having decided that Jack's idea had been fucking stupid, considering that Jack didn't love him enough to admit it even to himself... The hardest part of Ianto's recovery, for Jack, was the fortnight when Ianto had cut off communications with him, the fact that he hadn't known that his partner was out of hospital at all until he walked into work to give him the cold shoulder for another few days...

 

He shook his head and glanced up again to see Ianto watching him from the living room window. The soft golden glow was so warm and tempting, and this was home, but work called for the night and Ianto really needed a night at home after the week they'd had, so Jack was going to the Hub and Ianto was staying... Sighing, he dropped the keys into his pocket and gave another small wave to the window, then turned to walk down the street towards work.

 

Ten paces later, his phone rang and he kept walking as he answered it. “Did I forget something?” he glances back just as Ianto pulled the curtains aside.

 

Ianto huffed into the phone. “Yeah, the car?”

 

He laughed and kept going. “Needed to clear my head, figured the walk would do me good.”

 

“Are you okay?” Ianto asked hesitantly. “Did I say something?”

 

“No, no, it's not you,” he hurried to reassure him. “Just wishing I could stay home tonight.”

 

“I could come with you?”

 

“It's okay, get some proper sleep, you need it,” he pointed out as gently as he could. “it's been a long week.”

 

Ianto sighed down the phone, nearly deafening Jack in the process, and hummed an agreement. “It really has. I'll see you in the morning, then?”

 

“Yeah, I...” he swallowed and turned the corner into the park. “Come in when you're ready. I don't think anyone else will be up all that early.”

 

“Okay, call me if you get trouble, though?”

 

“I promise,” he chuckled. “Sleep well.”

 

“I'll do my best, see you tomorrow.”

 

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” He hung up and slid his phone back into his pocket, then dropped his gaze to his feet to watch his step through the park, absorbed in his thoughts. He knew he needed to turn a corner with Ianto, he even knew which corner it was, he just didn't know how to go about doing it.

 

Keeping his head down meant that he dodged the attention of a couple of men hanging around, just inside the shade of the trees. A couple of years ago he would have checked them out, work or no, but now... He shrugged to himself and carried on, and they glanced at him once and ignored him. Maybe he was losing something, not gaining it.

 

His route led him down Bute Street, which was eerily quiet at this time of night. Ten minutes walk from both the city centre and from Mermaid Quay, no one came to this area if they wanted a night out, so the few people he saw were making their way home quickly. Head down and ignoring them, and with his mind still churning over the state of his relationship with Ianto, he didn't notice the darker shadow following him along the other side of the road, pressed into the dark line of the hedge.

 

He jogged through Mermaid Quay, dodging through the thicker crowd of revellers enjoying the balmy air of the early summer outside the bars, and made for the Tourist Information entrance. The boardwalk in front of it was nearly deserted, although there were a few people leaning over the railings above, drinking bottled beers and watching the rippling reflections of lights from the Turkish Restaurant on one of the piers. Jack leaned on the post on the corner where the boardwalk turned to run along the front of the wall and watched a pair of seagulls bobbing on the water, into patches of bright colour and then out of them into the shadows of the supports again. Raucous laughter rang out from the railings above, and he turned his back on the water and let himself into the office, then down through the secret door into the Hub.

 

The cog door rolled back on a very different Hub to the one he'd left, though. Papers were strewn everywhere, drawers opened and boxes overturned and emptied. He reached for his gun with one hand and his comms. with the other, drawing back into the shadows at the bottom of the stairs to regain the element of surprise he'd lost in the blaring of the door alarms. When nothing moved, apart from a file that slid off Gwen's desk with a slither, he stepped forwards, keeping his gun raised and sweeping the area carefully. Movement in his office caught his eye, and he ducked around the Hub to approach it from the more concealed entrance up from the Archives, where the stairs would give him some shelter and the concrete would muffle his footsteps better than the ringing metal grills.

 

Down in the Archives, it was clear that whoever had turned over the Hub had been down here as well, but either the style or Ianto's aggressively meticulous filing system had put them off. At least the neat filing had deterred them from making too much of a mess – drawers were ajar, but the files were still in order, if a little rumpled.

 

He shifted his grip on his gun and activated his comms. with the intention of calling Ianto, but stopped before he did it. He'd wait until he had more information, or until he'd tidied the Hub up a bit, before he called the team in. If it was a trap, it was better for him to find out than one of them.

 

At the bottom of the stairs, he crouched and took off his boots, knowing that they would give him away on the stairs, and peered up along the wall. His office was in darkness and it was nearly silent but for the sound of someone being very quiet and the slight creak of the chair. With his gun extended in front of him, he crept up the stairs, hugging the wall that he knew was least visible from the chair, then glanced around the corner as soon as the chair was in view and...

 

And lowered his gun with a huff. “Doctor.”

 

“Jack,” the Doctor unfolded his arms from behind his head and swung around to look at him. “Is it even possible to make a quiet entrance here?”

 

“Yeah, it is,” he holstered his gun and propped his hip against the desk, straightening up the papers that were just as disturbed in here absently. “If you know you need to. I take it it wasn't you who made such a mess?”

 

“What? Oh, no, they left when I arrived,” he stopped Jack's hands in their restless tidying and looked up at him. “Did you find it?”

 

“Did I... Oh, yeah, we did,” he tipped his head back and studied the crack in the ceiling. “It's safe.”

 

“Good, good,” the Doctor got up from the chair and started pacing around the room, letting Jack sink into it and watch him. “Things are moving, Jack. Too fast, but also not fast enough. The Lord of Time, and now I've not got enough of it. Jack, where is it?”

 

He met the Doctor's gaze, then nodded and got up to open the hatch down to his bunk room. The dust was undisturbed down here, and the tiny space looked particularly unwelcoming when lit only by the light from the open hatchway. He found and opened the safe as quickly as he could with shaking hands and pulled the wrapped bundle from the very back of it, then passed it up through the hatch to the Doctor and climbed out, shutting the cover with a satisfying clang. The Doctor had taken the chair back again to unwrap the bundle carefully, so Jack leaned against the glass wall and watched him studying it, hands deep in his pockets to hide the fact that they were still shaking.

 

“It's... just that and...” Jack focussed again and smiled at the familiar buzzing and tipped his jaw questioningly. ”It's sort of like a smartphone,” the Doctor explained without taking his eyes from the object. “Its main purpose is as a communication device, but it can also store data.”

 

“So what do you need it for?”

 

He sighed and leaned his forearms on the desk. “The Lashimi are a warlike race who crave power above everything else. Entire galaxies are under their thrall already, and it's spreading. Earth is nothing more than a pitstop for them, a developing world that already has the technology to produce the materials they need to, but hasn't over-exploited its natural resources. They'll use the world as a munitions factory and farm the human race for soldiers to spread their war across the universe. Everyone and everything will burn in the fires of war.”

 

“What do you need me to do?” he asked softly, staring at the top of the Doctor's head. He finally looked up at Jack and opened his mouth to speak, but Jack shook his head. “Don't say it, Doctor. Just tell me what you need from me.”

 

The silence stretched out into discomfort, so long that he might as well have let him say it, then the Doctor finally nodded and sank back into the chair. “They're part cyborg by now, and everything they do is directed by their council on the Lashimi homeworld via their control ship on the worlds they target. Their control ship is here already, so they can monitor all my movements in the TARDIS, and I can't get close to them. They know I'm here, they know I'm onto them, and they will see me as their biggest target. I need to put the code that will destroy their computers onto this, and then the code needs to be downloaded onto their system in the heart of the control ship.”

 

“That sounds like a job that can only be done by someone who won't die in the process,” he smiled wryly. “Where do I take it?”

 

“Jaack...”

 

“Doctor, do we have another option?” he huffed and ran his hand over his face. “This is how it works, I'm the only person who can do it, so I have to do it. I'll leave as soon as you've got the code onto it.”

 

“What about Ianto?”

 

“What about me?” Ianto asked from the doorway, not looking at either of them.

 

Jack shook his head again and then dropped it back against the window. “No, I... No.”

 

“Jack,” Ianto paused and Jack shut his eyes tightly. “I'm coming with you,” he finally said, cutting off Jack's growl. “I'm not going to stay behind and wait for you to come back again, I can't Jack.”

 

“I'm not... Ianto, look at me,” he watched Ianto desperately until he finally met his gaze. “Ianto, if you came with me, you wouldn't come home. I will, I always will. But can't you understand that you're the one thing I can't afford to lose?”

 

Ianto held his breath for a moment, then stepped up to crush himself against Jack, smashing their mouths together in a kiss that was half dominance and half desperation, as if he would die without the contact and really, really wanted Jack to know it. When his hands loosened their painfully tight grip on Jack's upper arms, Jack finally found the brainpower to move and broke the kiss for just long enough to replace the air that Ianto's attack had knocked out of him whilst he slid one hand under the back of Ianto's T shirt and wound the fingers of the other through his hair. The Doctor's attempts to get their attention were ignored, and eventually Jack was aware of the lack of the other presence in the room. Ianto broke for air and trailed sharp, biting kisses along Jack's jaw to his ear. “Say it,” he growled against Jack's ear, “tell me. I need to know.”

 

Tightening his grip on Ianto's hair, Jack tugged him back until he could meet Ianto's eyes. “I love you.”

 

Ianto's touch gentled and he leaned in to kiss Jack again and whisper, “thank you” against his lips. He sucked Jack's bottom lip into his mouth and soothed it with his tongue, whilst one hand cupped Jack's cheek to angle his mouth better. The other hand slid down over Jack's ribs and around to his back, where Ianto hooked his thumb through one of Jack's belt loops. “Desk?” he suggested on a breathy laugh.

 

Jack huffed and tilted his head towards the door. “Doctor.”

 

Biting his lip, Ianto leaned back to look for the Doctor, then looked back at Jack with a pout. “Desk quickly?”

 

Jack laughed and leaned in to kiss him again, but pushed Ianto away as he did so. “Later, I promise.”

 

“You're not going to go running off to save the world immediately, then?” Ianto took a step away and fixed his gaze just to the left of Jack's face. “Or do I get to say goodbye?”

 

“Hey,” Jack stepped up to him again and cupped his face between his palms, trailing his thumbs over Ianto's cheekbones. “I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.”

 

Ianto nodded and looked over Jack's shoulder. “We should find out what he wants then...”

 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah, we should.” He brushed his lips against Ianto's forehead and then against his lips, then pulled away fully and turned out of the office into the main Hub to find the Doctor.

 

He was bending over Tosh's work station, poking at a bundle of wires with the business end of his sonic screwdriver and apparently concentrating intensely. Jack perched on the edge of the desk and watched him working, and Ianto dropped into the chair at his own work station. “Tosh will be pissed if she finds out you've been using her computer,” he pointed out, pillowing his head on his arms.

 

The Doctor ignored him, focussed on what he was doing, but Jack looked around at him again. “You should be in bed. Why did you come in?”

 

Ianto shrugged and closed his eyes. “Didn't fancy sleeping yet anyway. Good job I did, really.”

 

“Not complaining,” Jack reassured him. “Just...”

 

“Hmmm...” Ianto smiled, and the half of his face that wasn't buried in his arms was enough to let Jack know that he understood better than Jack did, as usual. “So, Doctor, where are we going?”

 

“Ianto, you...”

 

“Jack, stop it,” he sighed and hid more of his face away. “You've lost the argument.”

 

“No!” he snapped. “I can't lead you into danger like that. It's bad enough when it's a matter of knowing daily that you might not come home, but to lead you into a situation where I know you won't come home... please,” he sagged and rubbed at his eyes. “Please don't ask me to do that.”

 

“I'm not asking you to do that,” he offered gently, and when Jack opened his eyes, Ianto was sitting up in his chair and watching him, sadness weighed down on him. “There will come a point where you have to go on alone, but until then...”

 

“You'll need all the help you can get, Jack,” The Doctor still didn't look up. “And neither of you will be able to focus on the task in hand if you're separated too early.”

 

Jack huffed. “Are you ready to tell us yet?”

 

“What? Oh, yes, right,” he held the device up on an open palm, his warmer body temperature keeping the light barely visible, even in the dim night lighting of the Hub. “The data is on it, now. It'll be easy to connect it when you get there. You could just leave it around for one of them to connect up, really, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Importantly, you can't leave yet.”

 

Jack and Ianto looked at each other and Ianto waved his hand loosely. “So all the amateur dramatics?”

 

“Kept you out of my hair, and you sounded like you needed it.”

 

“Doctor,” Jack snapped. “What do we need to do?”

 

“Right, yes. You need to protect this. They've already found you, but they know that I came here, so they'll assume that I have it. I don't know when you'll have to move, but it needs to be under the cover of chaos, when you can slip through the gaps more easily.”

 

“When?”

 

“When the time is right,” he ran a hand through his hair and stared ahead. “I can't tell you exactly. It won't be more than three months, definitely. But when they come for you, you have to be ready to go. And you have to stop the USA and China doing something stupid like trying to wage war.”

 

Jack nodded slowly and let out a breath. “And what about you?”

 

“I'm going to gather information,” he swung out of his chair and headed for the lift. “I can't stay, I have to get moving. You'll hear from me. If I've not told you to move when three months have passed, though, you have to go.”

 

“We will,” Ianto told him, and Jack felt Ianto's hand slip into his own

 

“I know,” he stopped on the lift and looked at them sadly. “And I'm sorry, I'm truly, truly sorry.”

 

“Doctor? You...”

 

“I can't tell you, Jack,” his gaze burned into Jack as he rose up on the lift, and Jack clenched his free hand into a fist. “You can't know.”

 

Jack stood there silently until the Doctor was out of sight, then turned to face Ianto and pulled him in for a brief kiss. Nudging his nose against Jack's, Ianto sighed. “It's not his fault, Jack.”

 

“I...” Jack hugged him fiercely. “I don't want to lose you.”

 

“I know,” Ianto let himself be held and dropped his head against Jack's shoulder. “For what it's worth, I don't want to die.”

 

 

Jack's lips were soft against the bruises he'd left on Ianto's hips, lingering over the mark of each finger whilst Ianto's own fingers tangled in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as they wound down together. “You know, you're assuming that he's apologising for...”

 

“For sending you to your death,” Jack finished for him, resting his cheek on Ianto's thigh and looking up to his face at last. “Do you think he honestly expects me to forgive him for that?”

 

“No,” Ianto sighed. “But... it might not be that at all. He'd apologise for the sun rising.”

 

Jack sighed again and pressed the corner of his lips against Ianto's skin, and closed his eyes so that Ianto felt the brush of his eyelashes. “I can't live on the assumption that you'll live, though, when I know you'll leave me in the end. I... Ianto, I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”

 

“Hang on...” Ianto tapped the tip of Jack's nose . “First we got married...”

 

“I thought it was an emergency!” Jack protested.

 

“No, wait for me to finish,” he chided. “First we got married, then you asked me to marry you, then you moved in with me, then you told me you loved me, and then, finally, you tell me that you want to be with me? We're living our lives backwards.”

 

“Ianto, I...”

 

“It doesn't matter, Jack,” he cut him off. “What matters is that we do our jobs to the very best of our abilities and make sure that, if I don't come home, it was worth it.”

 

“It won't be for me,” Jack pointed out, almost petulant.

 

Ianto ran his fingers through Jack's hair again. “We're not having more life-affirming sex, Jack. The others will be in soon, and we need to tell them what they need to know to help us save the world. And then we'll go back to our everyday lives, chasing the flotsam and jetsam of the universe across Cardiff and finally falling into bed together at the end of a far too long and far too stressful day.”

 

“Marital bliss,” Jack rubbed his cheek against Ianto's thigh again. “I want to take you away from all this and just enjoy being with you whilst I can.”

 

“We can't.”

 

“I know,” he knelt up and shifted to kneel between Ianto's thighs, leaning forwards to kiss his stomach. “Doesn't stop me wanting it, though.”

 

“We need to get some sleep, Jack. Or I need to get some sleep,” Ianto ran his fingers down Jack's cheek, then pushed him back so that he could stand up. “Come with me?”

 

“I'll follow you down,” he promised. “Just let me tidy up up here a bit.”

 

“Take as long as you need,” Ianto smiled and bent down to kiss him, scooping his own trousers and Jack's T shirt up at the same time. “I might be waiting, but I'll probably be asleep.”

 

“I won't be long, really,” Jack chuckled as he stood up and cupped Ianto's cheek. “Go and get settled.”

 

Ianto pulled his trousers on, then shrugged into the T shirt as he padded across the Hub, picking his way between scattered papers and artefacts. Jack watched his progress with growing detachment, the immediate sense of desperate loss that had nearly drowned him before retreating into the background now he'd had the chance to prove that Ianto was still with him now. There was a separation in his mind – work on one side and Ianto on the other. As long as work had to take precedence, it did, even if Ianto was slowly dying and they hadn't had a chance to say goodbye and might not get it if work didn't end soon enough for Ianto to start. Once work can take second place, though, and Ianto needs to be put first, Ianto is all he can think about. When Ianto is all Jack can think about, Jack makes mistakes. He proposes marriage to someone who's so high on painkillers that he can't actually make a legally binding decision, and then follows through on it without saying the important bit. The Hub is trashed and they've been invaded, but he has to make love to Ianto on his desk and know that he's alive before he can deal with it.

 

Now, he could deal with it.

 

He secured the device first, locking it back in the safe in his bunker and getting out as fast as he can again. His office was mostly Doctor mess, which meant that it was probably tidier than it was when Jack left work, but the Hub was a disaster area. The most important things were making sure that the Rift monitor and the other detection systems were still working, and making sure that the armoury was still secure. It was easy work, but kept him busy for a while rebuilding the defences that they managed to get through before the Doctor scared them off so that he can get in and check on the detector. Systems running at ninety percent, good – Tosh had never managed to get it above ninety five, even on a good day, but she was sure she'd get there.

 

The door to the armoury was ajar, but nothing was missing. They didn't need weapons, just the one that fell into the wrong hands. Unless... He looked back towards his office and shakes his head. He wouldn't be able to get anything off it without the Doctor's help, even if there was something on there to find.

 

He cleared the strewn papers off the floor and stacked them neatly on Ianto's desk before he headed down into the archives, to the cosy suite that he and Ianto had set up down there, out of the way of anyone else finding it. It was minimal, just a bedroom and living room big enough for the two of them, with a tiny bathroom leading off the living room. It was theirs, though, and damnit, that mattered.

 

The living room is in darkness, and there's no sign that Ianto's even been in here tonight. Jack goes straight into the bedroom and takes his trousers off, dumping them in the laundry basket, before he crawls up the bed and squirms under the duvet to cuddle against Ianto, who is still half awake and slings a heavy arm over him to hold him in place. Jack kisses his chest and settles down, switching his brain to 'off', just for a few hours whilst all is still right in his world.

 

 

“Okay kids, here's what we have,” Jack raised his voice over the hum of chatter and Tosh, Owen and Gwen looked up at him almost guiltily. Ianto hid a smirk behind his hand and nodded when Jack glanced at him, because it seemed like the appropriate thing to do. “They took out our security last night, so we have no visuals on them. They walked through our defences like they weren't there, and knew exactly what they were looking for. Nothing else has been taken, am I right Ianto?”

“Nothing at all,” he agreed. “There's stuff here that would make most people jealous – or terrified,” he mused. “But they ignored them.”

 

“They know how valuable what we have is,” Jack agreed. “If there had been anyone here, they would have been cut down once they realised that I'm the only one who knows where it is.”

 

“Why's the Doctor different, then?” Owen asked.

 

“Because he's the Doctor,” Jack stated, as if that explained everything. “We don't know when they'll come again, we don't even know if they'll come again, but until this is all sorted out it's all of us or none of us. They won't come for us at home, well anyone but me... But no one's to stay late alone, I want us all here to cover each other.”

 

“What about you, if you think they'll come for you?” Gwen asked, eyes wide and challenging. “You can't expect us to let it pass.”

 

“Why are you always surprised, Gwen?” he leaned forwards towards her. “If the choice is between me and one of you, that's no choice at all. I'm not going to change my life on the off chance that someone will try to kill me, though, if that's what you're asking.”

 

“What about Ianto, though? You'll lead them straight to him and they'll use him against you...”

 

“I doubt it, Gwen,” Ianto looked over at Jack. “Everyone knows that Jack would never put me before the safety of the world, they're too bright to even try it.”

 

“But Jack...”

 

“Gwen, he's not you,” Ianto cut her off again quietly, swinging his gaze to her and ignoring their audience. “We can't afford for him to be you. I'm not you either, and I can cope with what we are.”

 

Jack squeezed his hand, and everyone looked round to him when he spoke to Gwen. “Life's too short, Gwen. We go on, like we always do, knowing that there's an extra load of them on our tails as well as the Weevils and space debris. That's all we do, we carry on.”

 

“Where's the device?” Tosh interjected when the pause grew uncomfortable. “Can I look at it?”

 

He shook his head. “It's secure, that's all you need to know. It's all ready for me to take it and use it when I need to.”

 

Owen leaned back in his chair. “You taking it alone?”

 

“No,” Ianto huffed. “Much as he wants to.”

 

“Oh thank God, don't think I could cope with you pining again,” Owen slapped the table. “So what's next on the agenda?”

 

And that was that for two months.

 

 

Ianto felt like he was saying goodbye each day. Not just to Jack, who seemed to be torn between clinging tight to say 'I'll never let you go' and clinging tight to say 'I miss you already'. Jack was confusing and irritating and sometimes scary and, yeah, Ianto was learning to breathe more lightly in his sleep and Jack was learning to cope with the fact that sleeping with his head on Ianto's chest made Ianto snore, and it was nice, even if every second they spent together reminded Ianto that Jack thought he was going to be dead in under three months. It was lovely to feel so cherished and well cared for, his recent weight gain showed how much Jack had been spoiling him, but bloody awful to be faced with his own mortality all the time.

 

So he figured it was no surprise that the times when the urge to run outweighed all other instincts were getting more frequent and harder to argue with, which had led him here, wandering the nearly deserted streets of Cardiff at some hideous hour of the morning, doing his best to notice the little things about the city that he never got to see when he was running through it in pursuit of the Bugblatter Beast of Traal, or with his head down and walking fast to get all the things he needed to get before Jack or work called him back.

 

The soundtrack to his late night wanderings was the ringing of his ignored mobile, vibrating in his jacket pocket. He'd heard Carameldansen all the way through five times now, and was on the verge of turning the damned thing off; unfortunately, Jack's sanity was slightly too valuable for that, so he just dealt with the fact that he had both the world's most annoying ringtone and the world's most annoying boyfriend... husband.

 

The bells of the Parish church chimed the hour around the corner, and he counted the chimes whilst he found a bench and sat down to ponder. When he put it on the bench, his phone vibrated off the edge and dropped into his hand, at which point he decided to answer it and shut Jack up. “Can't you take a hint?” he demanded as a greeting.

 

There was a long pause, too long because it made Ianto feel like shit, then a very deliberate, “Fuck you,” and the line went dead.

 

He clenched his fist around the phone and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes hard, then let out a yell and threw the phone across the square, watching as it flew apart on impact with the concrete wall. It didn't mean anything – nothing meant anything, symbolism like that was all crap, but it was a very stupid move in a very real sense. Jack was now scared and angry at the same time, both now aimed at Ianto, and the tracker on Ianto's phone would just have sent out a cry for help to the Hub computer as it was detached from the battery. If Jack came for him he'd be scared and angry at Ianto, and if he didn't then it was entirely possible that everything Ianto held dear was damaged beyond repair.

 

He dropped his face into his hands again and dug his fingertips into his eyes, pressing until lights flashed. Tears dampened his fingers and he hiccuped a sob into his palms, then slid his hands down so that his fingers covered his mouth, staring straight ahead down the street.

 

His defences were crumbling at last, dropping away and letting in the weight of 'oh shit, I'm going to die'. Torchwood was ready for him to go, he had made sure of that. The archives were up to date with clear instructions, the repeated orders were all automated, his account was set up to send off emails to the people that no one would think or know to tell, and there was a folder with the details of a dozen people he thought were suitable replacements ready to go to Tosh, Owen and Gwen, because Jack would refuse to hire anyone, which was flattering but impractical. Jack still wasn't coping at all, unless withdrawing into himself every time Ianto was out of his sight and having increasingly frequent nightmares about being abandoned counted as coping. And Ianto really, really hadn't started dealing, probably with reason if this was how he dealt.

 

He didn't look up when someone joined him, or even when their pace quickened and hands grabbed his own with a strange mixture of forceful and tender, pulling them away from his face and holding them tightly. Jack transferred one of Ianto's hands so that they were both held, palm to palm, between one of his and tipped Ianto's chin up, wiping tears off his cheeks with the pads of his fingers before Ianto dropped his head forwards again to study his knees instead. “Ianto... Ianto, look at me,” he tipped Ianto's chin up and Ianto blinked slowly. “Stay with me baby.”

 

He blinked again and shook his head, pivoting on the tip of Jack's finger. “Don't call me baby.”

 

“Don't act like one, then.”

 

“I'm not acting like a baby,” he snapped, standing up fast and meeting Jack's eyes on a level. “I'm acting like a twenty seven year old who's just realised he's not going to live to twenty eight.”

 

Jack squeezed Ianto's hands, still trapped in his. “Don't. Don't say that.”

 

“Why, Jack? You've accepted it. Why am I not allowed to?”

 

“I've not accepted it,” Jack insisted. “I'm preparing for the worst, but don't you ever think I've accepted it.” He tugged Ianto in and trapped his hands between their chests, wrapping his free arm around Ianto's back and cupping the back of his head to guide it to his shoulder, where Ianto tucked his face into Jack's neck and shuddered again. “I'm not going to lose you, Ianto. Not yet.”

 

He nodded and tugged his hands free so that he could cling on to the back of Jack's coat, burrowing further into it. “Jack, I don't want to die,” he told him, knowing how petulant he sounded. “I'm twenty seven, and I've barely started living. I wanted to have kids, teach them to fall out of trees and to swim and ride a bike, see New Year in Sydney, visit Las Vegas. I wanted to marry you for real in one of those stupid alien themed chapels there, and it wouldn't matter that it's not legal because we've already done it,” he chuckled through more tears. “Jack...”

 

“I know,” he soothed, and Ianto realised that Jack was crying too. “You could stay, you should stay. Stay here, Ianto, please?”

 

“It won't make a difference. Whatever we choose, that's what we choose, and that's... I couldn't watch you leave knowing that you were going to get hurt and that I might never see you again,” he buried his face deeper into Jack's neck. “However long we get, I'm going to use it.”

 

Jack sighed against the back of Ianto's neck. “You going to stop scaring me now?”

 

“I'm sorry. And for snapping at you. I'm... I think I just dealt with it.”

 

“I'll bring you home,” he told him with a quiet intensity. “You get me there, and I'll get you back again, okay?”

 

“Yeah, and then I'll take you to Vegas, and you can put me to bed when I get legless.”

 

“You really want to do it again?” Jack pulled back and flattened his palm against Ianto's cheek. “In Vegas?”

 

“Well, somewhere,” he admitted softly. “It'd be nice to do it with more than Tosh and a passing doctor there, for starters. Maybe not Vegas, then I could invite my sister.”

 

“Does...”

 

“I told her we're married,” he cut him off. “She was pissed off, understandably so, so I've promised that I'll take you round to meet her.”

 

“We'll see her before we go, and we'll arrange a repeat performance when we get back.”

 

“Okay,” he leaned in and pressed his lips to Jacks. “I'm not going to die, I'm not.”

 

“You're not,” Jack kissed him back, half promising and half begging.

 

After several mugs of coffee in the fast food restaurant that was the only place still open, they wound up on the roof of the Capitol building. Ianto had Jack's coat around his shoulders and Jack's arms around his waist, facing East and watching the sky turning pink and gold. Again, Ianto wanted to reject the symbolism, but it seemed to be following him around. “Dawn,” he pointed out. “A new day.”

 

“Fresh start, if you want it.”

 

He turned this over in his mind, thinking back over the night and the new day. “Yeah, fresh start. I'll eat more fruit and vegetables, get more sleep, get more sunlight, see my sister more, take up writing. Turn my life around.”

 

“Give up smoking?”

 

“Maybe,” he conceded.

 

“Divorce?”

 

“Definitely not.”

 

Jack chuckled and kissed the back of his neck. “Well, I'm glad I rank above the cigarettes.”

 

 

Of all the ways he'd expected to find out, Facebook did not rank highly. In fact, he'd gone to great lengths to make sure that Facebook was not an easy medium for news of alien invasions to spread by. It was there though, and on Twitter, and on the BBC's news page, and on BBC 1, and BBC 2, and ITV, and... not Channel 4, that was still showing Friends. Good to know some things never changed. He ran his hands through his hair and stared at the TV, then wandered into the bedroom and stabbed Jack under the ribs with his finger, grabbing the ready packed bags from the bottom of the wardrobe and dressing quickly whilst Jack rolled over to watch him. “Huh?”

 

“They're here,” he zipped up his jeans and threw a pair at Jack. “They've taken the Middle East, the assumption is that they're in control of nuclear weapons by now.”

 

Jack rubbed at his eyes and pulled on the boxers that Ianto had dumped on the bed for him. “I thought there were no weapons of mass destruction?”

 

“Apparently there are,” he emerged out the far side of a polo shirt and saw Jack pulling his jeans on. “End of the world, Jack. It's time.”

 

They grabbed the last of the things they could carry and emerged onto the street, ignoring both their cars. Jack dropped into the public phonebox on the corner whilst Ianto kept guard, and arranged for Tosh, Gwen and Owen to meet them in town on the first floor of the 24 hour fast food restaurant. The morning rush was dying down when they got there, and they managed to get a corner table where the five of them could sit out of the way.

Ianto went to fetch bacon sandwiches and large mugs of coffee, and Jack read the newspapers he'd picked up on the way in. It was a dismal story, even with the limited information they'd had by the time they went to print.

 

The military and police had been wiped out overnight and their bases were now under the control of the invading forces, the only resistance that could stand up to them was the insurgent forces who had been holding out against British and American troops and now held out against the fresh invaders. The Sky News reporters on the TV showed footage of entire towns wiped out, because it was the only way to get the insurgents. Huge numbers of people were missing rather than dead, people feared that they would be used as hostages to take more countries with less force.

 

Ianto stopped to look up at the TV screen, then dropped into the seat next to Jack. “Slaves?”

 

“I expect so,” he looks around at the stairs. “They should be here soon.”

 

“They'll get here, Jack,” Ianto reassures him. “You did advise them not to drive.”

 

“I'm an idiot.”

 

“Jack... Did you find out about the Hub?” he asked around a mouthful of bacon sandwich.

 

He nodded and flipped the paper over to do the sudoku. “Compromised, Mainframe's shut down.”

 

“So they can't get at the archives and databases?”

 

“No, but neither can we.”

 

Tosh's bag landed in the seat before she did, tucking her hair out of her wide eyes. “Jack, is it true?”

 

He waved a hand at the TV. “Very.”

 

“What do we do?”

 

“We... do what we do,” he wrapped his hands around one of the coffees and looked up at the screen again. “Get as much information as we can, go underground, save the world. Home in time for pizza,” he and Ianto exchanged a glance that neither of them could hold.

 

“The Bad Wolf barks at noon,” Owen broke through their thoughts and waved his hands at Tosh. “Budge up, Tosh. Gwen's getting coffees, we came in on the same bus. Life's just going on.”

 

“Life always goes on, Owen. It has to,” Jack rested his chin on his hands and looked sideways out of the window onto the street below. It was quieter than usual, but far from deserted. “Just because the world's ending, it doesn't mean you don't need to eat, or need new socks, or have to work. Your world might not end, you have to carry on to be able to pick up the pieces.”

 

“It's quiet, though,” Ianto pointed out. “Too quiet.”

 

“It's the calm before the storm, the deep breath before the plunge. People are digging in, stocking up on non-perishables in the hope that the storm will pass overhead and not touch them if they hide away. They'll start coming to churches and schools when the storm gets closer,” Jack sighed and shook his head. “It just makes them easier targets, like shooting fish in a barrel.”

 

Gwen appeared at the top of the stairs with another tray of coffees and slid them onto the table before dropping into the seat next to Jack. “The schools are all open, but only about half the kids have been sent in.”

 

“Yeah, we can read,” Ianto picked up a coffee and nodded at the screen. “The game is afoot.”

 

“Jack, what's the plan?”

 

“Ianto and I will set off for UNIT's base in London as a start. Then we'll take it from there.”

 

“You two?” Owen asked. Jack nodded, confused and Owen checked. “You and the teaboy? Anyone with medical training?”

 

“We're coming with you,” Tosh smiled sweetly. “We can't get into the Hub, there's nothing we can do. Gwen can stay behind and cover for us, keep us informed and keep Cardiff running.”

 

Gwen nodded. “No arguments, Jack. You all need to get off as soon as possible.”

 

He looked around and leaned sideways to look at Tosh's bag. “You... this is another mutiny, isn't it?”

 

Ianto squeezed his hand. “The exact opposite. We'll follow our captain wherever he goes, even to death.”

 

“I don't want that loyalty, I don't mmph...” he closed his eyes and tangled his fingers tighter with Ianto's when Ianto pulled back from his extremely effective attempt at stopping him. “When did you prepare it?”

 

“We've all been ready to go as long as you two have,” Owen cut across Ianto. “The car's waiting for us, the rest of the stuff is in it.”

 

“What car?”

 

“The car I bought for a couple of hundred quid from a mate of mine a few weeks back,” Ianto's eyes twinkled with faint mischief behind the concern. “Hilux, bombproof.

 

“Gwen, you'll run the backup Hubs?” Jack checked.

 

“Yeah, and I've got a few people on standby to back me up. Don't worry, Jack.”

 

“That's my job,” he splayed his hands on the table top and looked down as Ianto covered one and Gwen covered the other. They reached out for Tosh and Owen, who completed the circle. “We'll go to Hub 4 and lay low during the day, all of us. We travel by night, and we'll have no communication with anyone outside from now on. Even Gwen, once we leave. Absolute silence. We're truly on our own.”

 

“Better for four of us to be on our own together, than us waiting behind with nothing to do anyway,” Owen pointed out. “We're all yours, Jack.”

 

“Then let's save the world.”

 

 

Hub 4 had been a pub, run by one of the all too common Torchwood retirees due to injury. Joseph hadn't remembered any of them, of course, but he'd been grateful for the regular attendees who could help him through and cope with the fact that most of his life was a blur. Now it was a derelict pub, thick with dust and dirt and the carcases of dead spiders. The look on Ianto's face said it all. “Right,” he took his jacket off and hung it carefully on a hook, then rolled his sleeves up. “Gwen, get Rhys and go to the brewery, get a few barrels of beer, then go to the cash and carry and get some soft drinks and a real ale and a real cider.”

 

She gave them an apologetic look and fled, giggling into her phone as she called Rhys for help. Jack started to shrug his coat off as Ianto wandered around the bar, looking for what needed to be done first, but stopped when Ianto spotted him and came over to help him slide it off. Ianto brushed the coat straight and went to hang it next to his own jacket whilst he talked. “Tosh, Owen, you two take the first floor. Jack and I will take this one. Get the windows open and air the place out while I go round the corner and buy some cleaning supplies.”

 

Jack looked up at him and finished rolling his sleeve up. “You're not going out there alone, not now.”

 

“I'm only going...”

 

“No, Ianto, you're not,” he pushed his sleeves down and reached into his coat pocket for his wallet. “Stay upstairs and make sure that one of you can see the street at all times. Don't let yourselves get taken by surprise and don't open the door until you see us.”

 

Owen patted his gun and headed for the stairs. “Hurry back, and don't let Ianto buy more cleaning equipment than you can carry.”

 

Ianto flicked him the finger and stepped out onto the street, and Jack followed him instantly, grabbing his arm as soon as he was in reach. “Ianto, there's people trying to kill us,” he snapped. “I'm not going to lose you just because I wasn't there.”

 

“And what about Tosh and Owen?” he covered Jack's hand on his arm rather than pulling away. “And Gwen? You can't be everywhere.”

 

“Tosh and Owen can watch each other's backs. Gwen's built herself a team. You're... For God's sake, Ianto, can't you just accept that you mean more to me?” he squeezed Ianto's arm and tugged his hand away, but Ianto kept hold of it. “Am I that bad at communicating that you don't know how I feel about you?”

 

“Say it, Jack,” Ianto told him, holding tightly to his hand. “Tell me what I am to you.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“No,” Ianto squeezed his hand. “What am I?”

 

“I don't... I don't know what you want from me, Ianto.”

 

“What label would you use for me? How would you describe me if someone asked you?”

 

He frowned and contemplated complaining about labels, but the answer was too easy. “You're my husband.”

 

“You don't wear my ring,” Ianto rubbed his thumb over Jack's knuckles without looking down.

 

“You were... you were dying, if I'd chosen one for myself it would have meant accepting that,” he explained. “And then you wouldn't talk to me.”

 

“I was being a twat,” he admitted. “Have I said that before?”

 

“A couple of times. I seem to recall that it was the first thing you said to me,” he smiled ruefully. He'd been not sleeping when a warm, dozy figure had crawled into bed with him and announced apologetically that said figure was a twat.

 

“I really was a twat. You shouldn't have taken me back,” he tugged on Jack's hand. “But I'm glad you did. Come with me.”

 

“Oh, so now he wants me here,” Jack looked down at their still-joined hands curiously, then up at Ianto. “A lot of stuff to carry?”

 

“Jeweller's,” Ianto squeezed his hand. “And then you can mop the floor for me.”

 

 

Jack buttoned his cuffs as he jogged down the stairs, hair still damp from the shower (Ianto still sprawled out on the bed), and paused halfway down, well aware of the fact that the creaking stairs had given him away anyway. Tosh laughed and said his name, and an unfamiliar voice asked a question. He fastened the other cuff whilst he took the last few steps and pushed the door open to step out behind the bar, assessing the newcomer, who really shouldn't have been there, sharply. “Tosh, Owen, Gwen?”

 

The stranger smiled and got up, extending his hand. “Captain Harkness.”

 

“No,” he studied the hand and folded his arms. “That's me. Who are you?”

 

He dropped his hand and lifted his chin. “We need to talk, somewhere private.”

 

“They're my team,” Jack told him sternly. “Anything you'd say to me, you can say to them.”

 

“How far into this are you willing to drag them?” the stranger reached into an inside pocket and showed Jack a top level UNIT security clearance. “How much...”

 

“Come with me,” he cut him off and went back to the stairs. “And don't let anyone else in, even if they are UNIT.”

 

Captain Richard Rant followed him up the narrow stairs and stopped in the doorway when he saw Ianto glaring at him slightly fuzzily and, thankfully, fully clothed. “I'm afraid...”

 

“Captain, this is my husband, Ianto Jones,” Jack sat on the bed and gestured to the chair next to the wardrobe. “Do carry on.”

 

“I know what you carry.”

 

“I'm happy for you, so do I,” Jack folded his arms. “Who are you and what do you want?”

 

The click of Ianto's cartridge slotting into his gun was loud in the silence that followed, and the UNIT captain watched him warily, shifting his stance to a much more passive one, even though Ianto didn't look up from what he was doing. “How far would you go for him, Mr Jones?”

 

“Oh don't you start,” he scoffed and gestured at Jack. “I've had this discussion with him too many times. I'd follow him to the end of the world.”

 

“It is the end of the world.”

  
“As we know it,” Ianto looked up at him. “Seriously, we've had this discussion. So what. Do. You. Want?”

 

“You're waiting for the Doctor.”

 

“Not exactly,” Jack corrected him. “That would be an exercise in futility, and we don't have a spare century. You've seen him?”

 

“At UNIT London,” he confirmed. “He was planning on being able to come back here to meet you and take you to London by TARDIS, but something came up.”

 

“Something always comes up when he's around,” Jack sighed. “Besides, TARDIS travel is too risky with them onto us already.”

 

“Yes, we told him that,” Captain Rant agreed. “You know what he's like, though.”

 

Jack nodded and extended a hand. “Captain Jack Harkness, this is my husband, Ianto Jones. Call me Jack.”

 

“Captain Rant, Rick to almost everyone. I've been sent to get you to UNIT by the back roads.”

 

“We go by car?” Jack checked.

 

Rick sat back and shook his head. “We'll have to go cross country on foot. The boat will meet us to the West of the city and take us around the coast to Norfolk, where another boat will take us inland on the canals and rivers until it can't go any further, then we'll have to walk or get transport if it's safe to do so. Ely to Ely by boat, essentially.”

 

“You seem to be very organised.”

 

Rick smiled over at Ianto and inclined his head. “That's my job. We have to leave as soon as the streets get busy tonight. The cover of darkness and drunkenness is the best we can hope for for this part of the journey, and they'll be close on our tail from the moment we set off. It'll be at least a week before we reach London, and that's already too long.”

 

Jack stood up and squeezed Ianto's shoulder. “I suggest you get some sleep, then. Gwen, Rhys and I will cover the pub, I'll send Tosh and Owen up too, and make you a room up, Rick.”

 

“Thanks. I'm sorry to drop on you like this and present you with a fait accompli...”

 

“Keep us alive and I really won't care.”

 

 

Rhys had taken their bags to the Harwoods office when he took the van back there, ready for them to collect when they got out to that side of town, leaving Jack, Gwen and Andy Davidson to cover the bar for the few locals who poked their noses into the reopened pub whilst the others got some sleep.

 

Glancing up at the clock, Jack slipped out from behind the bar and headed upstairs to wake them, ready to leave as soon as the pub was clear. He went to Ianto last, letting himself into the room to sit on the bed next to him. The movement of the mattress was enough to wake him and he blinked blearily up at Jack before rolling over to bury his head in the pillow. Jack chuckled and trailed the tips of his fingers over Ianto's exposed shoulder, digging into the tense muscle. “Come on Ianto, we have to...”

 

When he stopped, Ianto lifted his head and followed Jack's gaze to the window, scrambling out of bed when Jack went to look out. He'd barely undressed to go to bed, just taken off his shoes and T shirt, and he pulled them back on at Jack's expression. “What do we do?”

 

“Out the back way, down the fire exit,” he turned back and caught Ianto's shoulders, holding him in place to kiss his forehead. “I'll get everyone out after you, wait in the garden by the gate for them. Once they're all there, go. I'll catch you up.”

 

“Jack...”

 

“I promise,” he released him and hurried to the door. “We don't have time.”

 

Tosh, Owen and Rick were ready by the time he returned to them, and they followed Ianto out down the fire escape whilst Jack hurried down into the bar again. Gwen greeted him with a knowing smile, which dropped when she saw him properly. “What is it?”

 

“They're outside, or someone is,” he squeezed her shoulders and pushed her towards the back door. “Get out and wait with them, but wait behind and tell me the route they've taken.”

 

She hesitated before she followed his push out the back door into the garden. Beyond her, he could just see the shadows of his friends moving into the trees that lined the back fence, safely sheltered from the view of anyone in the pub. At the bar, Andy was watching him worriedly. He collected a few abandoned glasses on his way back and nodded at the clock. “Last orders time.”

 

With a nod, Andy turned to ring the bell, putting his back to the pub. “What's going on, Jack?”

 

“We've been found, we have to get out of here.”

 

“Then go,” he muttered, turning back to the bar to start serving the last orders round. “I can cope with this, it's a pub. Simple.”

 

Jack shook his head and carried on collecting glasses. It was chance that he was ducked behind the counter putting the glasses into the dishwasher when the door opened again. Andy kicked him and announced loudly. “Sorry, too late, we're shutting up.”

 

Utter silence had fallen. Jack sat back against the dishwasher and listened to light, ringing footsteps coming across the tiled floor, hoping that they wouldn't look over the bar. “We're looking for Torchwood.” The voice was high and bright, and slightly distorted, leading Jack to believe that they were using a translation device.

 

Andy laughed and reached over above Jack to ring the bell again. “Yeah, you and half of Cardiff. Come round tomorrow and maybe someone will be able to tell you what they think Torchwood are up to.”

 

“You know Torchwood.”

 

“I know that Torchwood's a load of bollocks,” he countered. “Trust me, I was with the police. If Torchwood were really around here, I'd have heard about it. Time, please.”

 

“You know...”

 

“Look,” the old guy who'd been sitting at the bar for four hours now spoke up next. “We in Wales are used to being invaded. We might not like it, but we'll put up with it. You let us get on with our lives and we won't put up a fuss. Try to interfere and you'll bring out the Welsh Dragon on yourselves.”

 

“Do you threaten us?”

 

“No, just a warning. Friendly like. Bad at taking instruction, we are.”

 

There was a drawn out hiss and the footsteps shifted. “If you hear of Torchwood...”

 

“You'll be the last to know about it,” the old guy confirmed.

 

The volume of talk increased again over the sound of the footsteps returning to the door. A minute or so after the door shut, Andy stepped back and offered Jack his hand. “I reckon you're safe now.”

 

He took the offered hand and let Andy pull him up. “Thank you,” he offered his hand to the old guy. “They're on the house tomorrow.”

 

“No need for that, lad. Anyone who knows about Torchwood knows who you are. You'd better get out after your girl, make sure she's safe.”

 

“She's not my girl,” he grinned and grabbed a few cans from the fridge under the counter. “I need to catch them, though, before they go too far. Can you manage, Andy?”

 

“Yeah, I can manage,” he got out from behind the bar to collect glasses and let Jack out, and Jack picked up his coat and Ianto's battered leather jacket from the hook by the door. “Good job it didn't spot those.”

 

“I guess it is,” he agreed. “Are you going to stay here?”

 

“Until you get back. Look after them, Jack.”

 

“As long as you look after Gwen and Rhys for us,” he reached across the bar and picked up the unopened bottle of whiskey. “We'll be back before you know it.”

 

He'd nearly made it to the door when Andy called his name. He turned back and looked at him questioningly. “He'll be alright,” Andy told him firmly. “You'll bring him home.”

 

Jack smiled, hoping that it hid his doubt, and let himself out into the garden. The lone figure on the dilapidated swing turned more towards him and then stood up as he got closer. “Jack?”

 

“They've gone,” he told her. “Andy put them off, for the moment at least. They might come back tonight, though.”

 

“We'll be on our guard,” Gwen assured him. “They're only ten minutes ahead of you, you should catch them if you push.”

 

“Where to?”

 

“To Harwoods,” she fished in her pocket and passed him a note. “From Ianto. They're heading over to the Taff and going up the river, out that way. Good luck, Jack. Keep them safe.”

 

He kissed her cheek and pulled back, putting the note in his pocket with the drinks until he found a streetlight where he could read it. “I don't know how long this will take, but I will bring them home.”

 

“I know you will. Now go on,” she pushed him towards the back gate and he ducked under the low branches, out onto the street.

 

He set a fast pace, cutting through the back streets without having to think about it, he knew them so well. Not even Ianto knew his way around Cardiff as well as Jack did, although their night time activities (of the work related sort) were teaching him.

 

Jinking through alleys and ginnels, and even through the occasional back yard, brought him onto the tow-path of the Taff unnoticed. Now here, he had a dilemma, as he had no way of telling whether the others had come past here yet, or if they were actually behind him. No trackers because they were in their phones and comms, which they'd left behind, and no means of contacting them for similar reasons. He crouched by a puddle and tried to read the shoe prints, but he was painfully out of practice and it was a popular route.

 

Footsteps coming down the path towards him caught his attention and he melted back into the shadows of the tiny, overgrown path he'd come down to wait for them. They got closer and closer, and nearly muffled the clicks of their guns. He held his breath and pulled back even further, ready to run if he had to, so when it was Rick who told him to show himself he didn't really know what to do.

 

They all untensed somewhat when they saw him, and re-holstered their guns. “When I told you I'd catch you up, I didn't mean for you to catch me up,” he chuckled at their shocked faces. “More homework needed on the back streets of Cardiff when we get back.”

 

“Well, we've got the expert with us now. Are you ready to lead us now, Captain?” Rick asked.

 

Jack passed Ianto his jacket and nodded. “Ready and willing, let's push on. It's another half an hour to Harwoods yet.”

 

Ianto fell into step beside him, with Tosh and Owen behind them and Rick bringing up the rear. They were all still highly alert and tense, hands never straying far from their guns along the open tow-path. He looked over when Ianto nudged his arm and smiled. “Hey, you okay there?”

 

He nodded and brushed his fingers over the back of Jack's hand. “Is that a bottle of whiskey in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?”

 

“Am I allowed to say both?” Jack laughed. “I thought we might need it, it'll get cold at nights.”

“It already is cold at nights,” Ianto pointed out with a smile. He searched Jack's face as they passed under a streetlight and caught his fingers. “Did they get you?”

 

“No, I got lucky,” he reassured him. “Andy's good at lying about Torchwood.”

 

“He's a good bloke,” Ianto agreed. Jack let him think, as there was clearly something on his mind. Eventually, without looking at Jack again, he asked, “did you read my note?”

 

Jack's fingers twitched against the piece of paper in his pocket and he shook his head. “Not had chance to stop for long enough yet. Should I?”

 

“Oh, no, it doesn't matter now,” he pulled his hand away from Jack's and shoved it in his pocket. “Just the codes for the garage at Harwoods, if you were that far behind us.”

 

“Ianto, give me some credit,” he sighed. “I know you better than that.”

 

“Yeah,” he trailed off and tucked his head down. “I guess you do.”

 

“So what was it?”

 

“Oh, just me realising that... you haven't died for a while, not when I couldn't be there,” he shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “I felt guilty, if I wasn't going to be there.”

 

“I didn't die though,” Jack slipped his hand into Ianto's pocket and curled their fingers together. “But thank you.”

 

Ianto fell silent again, holding onto Jack's fingers with his own until they had to break apart to get through the narrow alleys to Harwoods. Rhys was waiting to let them in by the little side gate, and ushered them into his office where he'd put the bags. Jack opened his own and checked the device, then wrapped the bottle in a shirt and shoved that into his bag too. The others were checking their bags and putting the last few things into them whilst he did this, and he checked the clock as he straightened up. “What do you think, Rick? We can get another three hours walking in before dawn.”

 

Owen grunted and Rick nodded. “Yeah, we'll push on, stop for a couple of hours at dawn, then push on again during the day. We should get there sometime during the morning, and we can hole up until it's dark enough to take the boat across.”

 

“We've had worse days,” Tosh pointed out. “Let's go.”

 

“That's my girl,” Jack grinned. “I'd like to say we'll keep in touch, Rhys, but we can't. We'll get a message to you from London if we can.”

 

“Just do what you do, and keep me out of it,” he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked out into the darkness. “I know it's what you all have to do, but I wish it hadn't happened on Gwen's watch.”

 

“No one wants it to happen on their watch,” Owen told him shortly. “Or that of anyone they care about. Look at Jack and Ianto, they've got stuck with both. Be glad she's back here, safe, not coming with us.”

 

“Oh, I am,” he hurried to reassure them, retracting his foot from his mouth and avoiding looking at Jack and Ianto, who were avoiding looking at each other. “It's just... why Earth?”

 

Jack shrugged. “Why anywhere? It's here. Come on; Tosh is right, we have to go.”

 

He stepped out onto the forecourt and breathed in the night air, tasting the poisons of the lorries' exhausts. Rick joined him and stepped up close to him. “You should leave him behind, Jack. He'll distract you from what you have to do.”

 

“I know,” he agreed. “But you try telling him that.”

 

“Try telling me what?”

 

“Not you, Owen,” Rick sighed. “Ianto.”

 

“Oh, you think he should stay behind too?”

 

“Yes, Jack won't focus if Ianto's there and in danger,” Rick ignored Jack's huff. “Partners shouldn't do this sort of thing together.”

 

“Why not?” Ianto challenged from behind them. “You barely know us, who are you to say that we can't work together? How do you know that we could adjust to not having each other there?”

 

“He's coming,” Jack insisted. “I'd be worse if I left him behind.”

 

“Fine, just don't get us killed,” Rick tightened the straps on his bag so that it settled higher on his shoulders. “After you, Captain.”

 

“Where am I leading us to?”

 

“Aberthaw.”

 

He set his shoulders and looked up at the sky. “Call it six hours to get there, we've got three hours before we need to get our heads down. We'll find somewhere in Ely.”

 

They took footpaths away from the main roads out of Cardiff, keeping their heads down and keeping their pace as fast as they could take it. Tosh was flagging fastest, but she kept up with them despite it, trekking on doggedly as the sky lightened above them, dusky blue smudging the stars away.

 

They stopped in the park in Ely, flopping into the shade of the trees to rest tired feet and legs. Ianto settled next to Jack and leaned into him, accepting an arm around his shoulders. They sat there in silence for a while, steadying their breathing and stretching their abused muscles in the cold morning air. Rick shifted his bag and lay back on the grass, turning his head away from Jack and Ianto.

 

Ianto was the first to move, pulling away from Jack and standing up. He flexed his shoulders and looked around them, then reached down to offer Jack his hand. “Breakfast time,” he wiggled his fingers. “There's a Tesco down the street, we can get some bits there and eat here, then I'll go find us somewhere to stay.”

 

“Good thinking,” Jack agreed, taking Ianto's hand and letting himself be pulled to his feet. “After you.”

 

“Couldn't one of us find somewhere to stay whilst you're gone?” Rick suggested. “some places must be open early enough.”

 

“Yeah, but Ianto's the only Welsh one,” Owen pointed out with a yawn. “You get used to using the Welsh one to get stuff done.”

 

Ianto snorted and headed out of the park, with Jack hot on his heels. They strolled down the quiet streets to the supermarket, where the girl behind the counter watched them blearily as if she'd much rather be back in bed, and didn't think that they should be so with it at such a god-awful time of the morning. She rang up the pastries, sandwiches, fruit and bottles of fizzy drinks that they'd bought and managed half a smile at Jack's overly cheerful 'good morning', then went back to sleeping on the checkout until more people arrived.

 

They dropped their spoils onto the grass and reached into the bags for food and drink before the others could get there. “Chef's prerogative,” Jack announced around a mouthful of muffin. “We went, we get to pick.”

 

“There's plenty,” Ianto reassured them, although not until he'd found the doughnuts and made sure he got one. “Jack went a bit mad.”

 

“Wait, I went a bit mad?”

 

“That's what I said,” Ianto smirked and pulled out the bottle of orange fizzy. “It's a well known fact that I'm very good at shopping and buying only what we need.”

 

“Only to people who don't live with you,” Jack pointed out. “I've seen our drinks cabinet.”

 

“I like our drinks cabinet,” Ianto waved the doughnut at him. “It's friendly and welcoming.”

 

“You missed a word,” Jack filled the pause with a hiss as he twisted the cap of the drinks bottle. “It's friendly, welcoming and full.”

 

“Full is good. An empty drinks cabinet is a very sad thing.”

 

“Do you two ever shut up?” Rick groaned. “Honestly, from the stories I was told I thought I'd have most problems with you flirting, not having to put up with something out of Stepford Wives.”

 

“Oh God, they've been like this for ages,” Owen propped himself up and reached for a sandwich. “Since before they got married.”

 

“I'm coming to the startling conclusion that you're all mad,” Rick announced.

 

“Sanity isn't conducive to surviving at Torchwood,” Jack pointed out, only slightly bitterly. “If you're sane when you arrive, you won't stay that way.”

 

In the silence, they all heard something, a soft footstep in the bushes behind Tosh. They drew their weapons and got to their feet. “Stand your ground,” Jack instructed. “Let them come to us.”

 

“Preferably before the park fills with kids on their way to school,” Ianto pointed out.

 

Three aliens stepped out of the wood quickly, though. They were armed for hand to hand combat rather than distance fighting, so the team had the advantage for the moment. They were tall and slim and silvery in colour, with double bone structures along their limbs, one protruding in an arc above the skin. Their movements were surprisingly angular and jerky, and they jerked forwards towards the team, raising their weapons. “Surrender, Torchwood.”

 

“On what terms?” Rick demanded, glancing over at Jack.

 

“You will be taken from this place and will serve our army, for the glory of your planet and our empire.”

 

“And if we refuse?”

  
“Then you will die.”

 

Jack nodded and released the safety on his Webley. “We'll take our chances.”

 

They opened fire as the aliens surged forwards. Bullets glanced off the protruding bone structure and off their weapons, but not enough to save two of them, who fell fast. The last one, though, was on them before they could take aim again, and drove into Jack fiercely, forcing him to the floor as its blade thrust into his chest. He jerked and his mouth opened in a silent scream as electricity surged through him from the weapon and the alien slumped on top of him.

 

 

Lights sparked and jumped, drifting through the darkness and clinging around him. They were too bright, casting everything else into ghostly shadows. Someone was holding him tightly, but he couldn't see them clearly, just feel their arms warm around him and their solid heat at his back, supporting him. The ringing and crackling in his ears faded, and he could finally hear Ianto murmuring to him and calling him back. He shuddered and turned, reaching out to where he thought Ianto's face was, tracing it with his fingers. Ianto pulled back suddenly and he froze. “What did I do?”

 

“You poked me in the eye,” Ianto took his hand and squeezed it. “We had to get you to the hotel down the road, told them you'd had a fit and we needed to get you indoors when they asked. Jack, what's wrong?”

 

He choked and flexed his fingers against Ianto's, pulling his hand out of his grip so that he could trace his fingertips down his arm. “I can't see... I can't see you. I can just see white, and light and... oh God. Ianto...”

 

Ianto reached out and gathered him in again, pressing Jack's face into his neck. “Hey, it's okay. I've got you, we'll look after you.”

 

“Ianto, they're in my mind...” he swallowed hard and shook, pressing himself even further against Ianto. “They can hear me, and I can hear them. They know, they know...”

 

“They already knew, Jack, you're not letting them know anything they didn't already.”

 

“They didn't know about you, about us,” he clutched at Ianto's T shirt and his breath hitched. “They know now.”

 

“Let them know,” Ianto shifted Jack until his head was tucked under Ianto's chin and he was settled more comfortably against him. “We'll deal with this Jack.”

 

“No, no, you have to leave me behind,” he pulled away and shut his eyes tightly against the fierce light. “They can't... they'll know.”

 

“I am not leaving you behind, okay?” Ianto gathered him up again and he hid from the light. “Now take deep breaths and calm down, we'll sort this.”

 

He did as he was told for a while, then sighed. “Sorry.”

 

Ianto laughed tensely and squeezed him tighter. “You were killed, then woke up to discover that someone's in your mind and you can't see. Even you're allowed to freak out at some things, Jack.”

 

“We need to tell the others, decide what we're going to do about it,” he burrowed further into Ianto and chanced a look out at the world, now able to focus more on individual points of light. “I can't risk it destroying our chances.”

 

“Whatever happens, Jack, I'll be with you. I'm not leaving you behind, and you're not going anywhere without me, okay?”

 

He nodded and relaxed slightly more. “I need to see the Doctor.”

 

“Yep,” Ianto kissed the top of his head and rested his chin on it again. “Next stop, the Doctor.”

 

Owen came to find them first, to check on his patient. He was pleased to see that Jack was alive again, which implied that he'd been out a long time. Jack sat in the middle of the bed, with the shadows of Ianto and Owen behind and in front of him, whilst Owen tried to figure out what was wrong with him. “You've got no optical responses at all to visible light,” he said at last. “But you can see me, right?”

 

“I can see where you are,” he corrected. “You're a shadow, almost a ghost. I can see where you are, because it's where nothing else is.”

 

“Okay, so what can you see clearly?”

 

He looked around and frowned. “Something really bright over there.”

 

“Over there?” Ianto leaned in closer to him and Jack could feel his breath on the back of his neck. “Our bags are over there.”

 

“My bag,” he realised. “The thing.”

 

“And what would you bet that you now see like they do?” Ianto's arms wrapped around his chest again and tightened. “You're cold, you feel...”

 

“Like I'm still dead,” Jack finished for him. “Yeah, you're really warm.”

 

“Well, at least we know it's not going to kill you. Just... Stick close to Ianto if something starts taking you over, your instinct to protect him will be stronger than for the rest of us.”

 

Jack swallowed. “Don't let me hurt him.”

 

“I'm the only one strong enough to stand up to you,” Ianto pointed out against his ear. “Apart from Rick, and the instinct to break his neck is already too strong.”

 

“I might just do it and use the excuse,” he leaned back against Ianto again and squeezed Ianto's arms. “I can't be immortally blind,” he whispered. “I just couldn't cope. Not like this.”

 

Ianto kissed him behind his ear. “We won't let that happen, I promise. Owen, go and tell the others. And tell Rick we need a change of plan. If they can read Jack's mind, we can't go by the route he knows.”

 

“I should have thought of that,” he growled, burying his face in his hands to hide from some of the light. “I hate this.”

 

“I know,” Ianto squeezed him again, then brought one hand up to cover Jack's eyes. “It's up to us to look after you now, Jack. You're going to have to get used to it for a while.”

 

“I shouldn't,” he protested fiercely. “That's my job, I'm here to... Your hand across my eyes works better than mine.”

 

“Of course,” Ianto sounded like he was being offended to cover up how worried he was. “I'm better at most things than you.”

 

“No, I... it's like you're more here than I am...” he planted his hand over Ianto's. “I don't know what's happening to me.”

 

“We'll find out, and we'll stop it,” Ianto told him softly. “The Doctor will know what to do.”

 

“That's what I thought last time. And look at me, still immortal.”

 

They moved off as soon as Jack was ready, a wait that took longer than he was used to. Ianto held his hand to lead him, and they took narrow pathways through the countryside. Jack could smell the sea and feel the breeze, but all he could see ahead of him was dark shadow and a glow far, far in the distance. “We're on the coast,” he guessed. “On top of a cliff?”

 

“Yeah, you have to tread carefully,” Ianto told him, tugging on his hand. “I don't think I could cope with seeing you die twice, and there's altogether too many spectators.”

“Noted,” he closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of the ground beneath his feet, checking that each step was safe and secure before he put his weight on it. Ianto stayed close, waiting for him and guiding him past obstacles like a tree root across the path and a rock that jutted out of the path, worn smooth and slippery by hiking boots. Apart from the fact that he couldn't see, and his constant awareness of the device in the bag on his back, Jack could almost believe that it was a nice day out, taking the time together that they were given and just enjoying it. The sun was warm above them, the wind was cool. He turned to Ianto and smiled. “You'll get sunburnt.”

 

Ianto chuckled. “Well, I'll let you treat it if I do.”

 

“Idiot.”

 

“Your idiot,” he tugged on Jack's hand again. “Dog crap.”

 

“Oh lovely. You take me to the nicest places.”

 

“We're nearly there. There's an ice cream kiosk on the beach, you can buy me an ice cream,” Ianto was smiling, Jack could hear it. “Nearly at the bottom of the path.”

 

“Did you just say bath?”

 

“No, I said path. You've got sex on the brain.”

 

“Or maybe I just want a bath,” he sniffed the air. “Fish and chips.”

 

“I assume that's not at the same time as the bath?” Ianto checked.

 

“No, I mean I can smell fish and chips. Whoa,” he stumbled and Ianto swung around to catch him, pressing Jack against his chest and holding him tightly. “Thanks.”

 

“Don't mention it,” he released him slowly and settled him back on his feet properly. “I want to say you'll get used to it, but I don't want you to get used to it.”

 

“Me neither,” they looked at each other in silence, Ianto watching the way Jack's unseeing eyes flicked around the edge of the shadow and then drifted off into the distance somewhere behind him. “Whatever happens, I'm going to see you again. I hate not being able to see you.”

 

Ianto slid his fingers down Jack's arm and took his hand again. “You'll see me again.”

 

“Yeah,” he forced a smile and twined his fingers through Ianto's as they set off again.

 

 

Rick poked his head into the cabin at the back of the boat and studied the two men in the half light. Jack had his face pressed into Ianto's chest, hiding from the brightness that had actually intensified rather than dimmed since he'd been blinded in Ely two days before. They spent all day in the cabin, whilst Tosh and Owen spent as much time as they could on deck, giving the two men as much space and privacy as they could. They were all worried about Jack, and as he couldn't see them, none of them was scare of letting it show. He leaned against the door jam, propping his foot against it for extra support as the boat swayed again.

 

He didn't know Ianto was awake before he spoke. “You've not got gay friends, have you?”

 

“Not that I see sleeping,” he admitted. “And they're not even big on public displays of affection. I never really...”

 

“What?”

 

“Never thought I'd be jealous of two guys,” he shrugged. “It's... you're obviously not just together because you can't get a girl.”

 

“No.”

 

He looked away from Ianto's slightly patronising smile, then back to them. “He's not awake?”

 

“No,” Ianto shifted again so that he could look down at Jack better. “It's not like him to sleep like this.”

 

“He's ill, Ianto,” Rick sighed and closed his eyes, dropping his head back against the door. “You're allowed to be worried.”

 

“I don't have a choice in the matter. He's so cold, it's strange. Normally he's so warm.”

 

He crossed the room and bent over them, pressing his fingers to the back of Jack's neck. His eyes widened and he stepped back. “He's as cold as...”

 

“As if he were dead, I know,” Ianto huffed against Jack's cheek and turned away. “I can't let him go, because the only way I know he's alive is by feeling his heartbeat. I keep having to check.”

 

“Ianto?” Jack sighed and dragged Ianto's hand up to cover his eyes. “Still here.”

 

“Yeah, I can tell,” Ianto flattened his hand over Jack's eyes and looked over at Rick. Jack's words were slurred and heavy, as if he were heavily drugged, and his movements had been clumsy. He shivered against Ianto, who tugged the quilt up over him and held him tight. “How far off are we?”

 

“A way off,” he held up three fingers for Ianto and mouthed 'days'. “We'll get you seen to soon, Jack.”

 

“Not bloody soon enough,” Ianto muttered.

 

 

Jack stood on the deck with Ianto's arms tight around him and looked out over the coast with his sightless eyes, looking for any of the light that would show up their pursuers. He shook his head and leaned back into Ianto's eyes further. “Nothing, no sign of them.”

 

“Fortunate,” Rick commented. “And just slightly suspicious.” The country wasn't overrun, but there were scouts and patrol groups abroad. The Spanish army had taken out a patrol group, and the entire country had been brought under heel in retaliation; millions were dead or missing and the rest were enslaved. The message was clear – keep your nose clean and we'll come to you later rather than sooner. But the fact that they'd managed to avoid any attention at all, that was suspicious.

 

“Maybe they're still waiting for us wherever Jack thinks we are,” Owen suggested.

 

Jack shook his head and regretted it. “They're not, because they know we're not there. Maybe they just don't know where to look for us.”

 

Ianto's grip tightened around his chest and he closed his eyes, turning into him. “Jack, stay with us.”

 

“Can't,” he realised, even as he said it. “Too bright.”

 

Instantly, Ianto's hand flattened over his eyes, but that meant that his grip supporting Jack wasn't as strong, and his knees started to give. “Jack, Jack don't you dare.”

 

“Sorry,” he turned around to lean against Ianto more. “Can we get indoors first?”

 

They managed to get him halfway there before the world went white and cold.

 

 

The first things he was aware of were soft sheets and a heavy duvet, a mattress with just too much give and a blindfold across his eyes. He reached out as memories slotted into place and pushed himself up when his hand found only empty bed. “Ianto?”

 

“Oh trust you,” a chair creaked and he was aware of a very familiar someone bending over him, hands touching his temples. “He's barely left your side, so of course you'd pick a moment when he's gone for a shower to wake up. Do us all a favour and pretend to be out of it when he gets back?”

 

“Doctor?”

 

“Who else? Now close your eyes, Jack, we need to see if this has worked.” He sighed, and choked, and finally remembered to close his eyes behind the blindfold, rather than try to stare at the Doctor despite the fabric. Cool fingers – that was a relief, as everything had been too hot against his skin before, although he couldn't have let go of Ianto if he'd tried – slipped to the edge of the blindfold and pulled it away gently, but he could feel the elastic across the back of his head still and it was clearly there waiting, just in case. “Now open your eyes slowly.”

 

He did so, looking away from the light he could see even through his lids, then slammed his eyes shut again. “Bright.”

 

“Oh Jack...”

 

“No, not the same,” he hurried to reassure him. “Just... like coming out of a dark place into sudden light. That sort of bright.” He opened his eyes again and found the Doctor, then sagged back into the pillows. “No offence, but you're not the first thing I wanted to see.”

 

“You close your eyes then, and I'll go fetch him, and he can tell you when to open them again.”

 

“Thank you,” he did as advised and leaned back into the pillows, which immediately fluffed up around his head again and tried to eat him.

 

The door creaked open once, but didn't close. He turned his face into the cool pillows and relaxed into them, listening out for the Doctor or Ianto's return. Eventually he heard footsteps coming down the corridor and the door creaked shut again, clicking firmly, and he smiled, knowing from that without having to look that it was Ianto. “I'm informed that you can see again.”

 

“I can,” he confirmed, fluttering his eyes open dramatically to look up at Ianto, who was standing somewhat awkwardly at the end of the bed. “Good to see you again.”

 

“Glad to hear it.”

 

Jack sighed and held his hand out. “Come over here. Please?”

 

Ianto sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand into Jack's, then yelped slightly when Jack tugged and Ianto landed in his lap. “Jack...”

 

“Let me,” Jack pleaded softly, carding his fingers through Ianto's damp hair. “I've not been able to see you for days,” Ianto tensed against him and he rubbed at his shoulders. “How long have we been here?”

 

“A week,” Ianto shifted his head onto Jack's thigh and nearly purred whilst Jack petted him. “And you just... we couldn't wake you up on the boat, or afterwards. You just lay there, and you were so cold. I couldn't feel the change at first, but then you started to warm up. That was when we knew you were recovering, when you started to...”

 

“Ianto,” Jack smoothed his hand over his shoulders again, chasing a tremor.

 

“Am I allowed to admit that I was scared you'd never get better?” Ianto choked out, trying desperately not to cry. “Because I was. I didn't... I would have stayed with you forever, but you would have hated it.”

 

“Ianto, you couldn't...”

 

“If you were blind, Jack... If something like that happened to you, I know you'd cope, because you always do, but I wouldn't be able to leave you to cope alone. If you asked it of me, or if I just couldn't leave you, I'd stay with you forever. I don't know how I'd do it, but I'd make it happen.”

 

“You can't, you know I'd never ask that of you. It's hell, Ianto.”

 

“Even with me?” he asked tiredly, not opening his eyes.

 

“No,” the tenderness with which he cupped the back of Ianto's neck and brushed his thumb over his cheek was a juxtaposition with the fierceness of his tone. “No, with you it's different.”

 

“Then if you were there, why would it be hell for me?”

 

Jack couldn't think of a response to that, except to pull Ianto up the bed through a mixture of gentle persuasion and brute force, until he could drag him under the quilt and wrap his arms around him, burrowing his face into his neck. “Please don't do that for me. Not just for me.”

 

When he opened his eyes again, he could see that Ianto understood what Jack was trying to say, that his conscience couldn't bear that. “Whether I live or die, it won't be your fault, Jack. Unless you pull the trigger yourself, in which case something must have gone very dreadfully wrong anyway.”

 

“I never would. You were the only one they trusted me with when they thought that I wasn't entirely me.”

 

“That's the problem with the civil partnership vows,” Ianto mused, rubbing his thumb over Jack's hand. “You didn't say all that stuff about to love and honour and cherish and protect. But you meant it, I always knew that you meant what you weren't saying.”

 

“That's... that's good,” he settled in against Ianto again. “Do we have to move?”

 

“Eventually,” Ianto sighed, leaning his head against Jack's forehead and rubbing their noses together. “But not yet.”

 

 

The Doctor managed to prescribe bed rest and minimal disturbances for Jack for the next two days, aided and abetted by Owen and Martha, who had shown up unexpectedly because her UNIT base had been cleared to make it less of a target for the invading forces. He felt guilty about it, knowing that the world was coming more and more under the thumb of an invading alien horde and that people were dying whilst he lay in bed, mostly wrapped around Ianto, but they had both agreed that he would get up and join the talks when he could walk across the room without his vision fading out.

 

He woke at the UNIT base for the fourth time with Ianto's head on his chest, Ianto's arm slung across his waist and the duvet entirely on what had become Ianto's side of the bed, even though Ianto always squished into Jack's side of the bed, mostly on top of him.

 

Jack had told him yesterday that, had he known that what it took to get Ianto to snuggle was to scare the crap out of him, he would have done it long ago. Somewhere during Jack's 'illness', Ianto's ability to walk out of the room and not speak to him for a day had died, for which Jack was extremely grateful.

 

It would have been very dull, unable to do anything but lie there and wait for Ianto to forgive him. Actually, it was anyway, but at least he could watch Ianto deciding whether to forgive him or not, and it didn't take as long when Jack was actually in the room with him.

 

The bedside clock showed that it was still early. Not early for a UNIT base, which never slept, but early for Ianto. He still wasn't very good with mornings if you let him have one. The best time to wake him up was before five or after eleven, any time in between and he'd hate you for a week. Seven in the morning, after two days of being able to lie in and a week of not really sleeping because Jack was unconscious, Jack just held him tighter and let him be.

 

He stirred eventually and reached out blindly for the duvet, dragging it over his head. Jack chuckled and tried to tug it over more of Ianto than just his shoulders and head, but Ianto grumbled and pinned him down. “Stay. Still. Dn't move.”

 

“You forgot 'sit',” he teased. “And you're... oh never mind.”

 

“The duvet's gone somewhere, hasn't it?”

 

“Just a bit,” he reached down to tug it again and Ianto propped himself up just enough to help, then flopped down on Jack again. “You really, really hate mornings, don't you?”

 

“Wow, he's finally figured it out.”

 

“Sarcastic whelp.”

 

“You love me for it.”

 

Jack sighed and settled back again happily. “Yeah, I do.”

 

“Sap.”

 

“You love me for it,” he challenged.

 

Ianto was silent for a while, then sighed. “Yeah, you're right, I do.”

 

“You don't need to sound so miserable about it, you know,” he stretched and sat up to dislodge Ianto. “I know this sounds strange coming from me, but where are my clothes?”

 

“I know this sounds strange coming from me,” Ianto replied from somewhere under the duvet. “But I put them away in the chest of drawers.”

 

He rubbed his hand over the concealed lump that was probably Ianto's shoulder. “Want to join me in the shower?”

 

“Would that mean moving?”

 

“I'm afraid so,” he pulled the duvet back so that Ianto could glare at him. “We need to get ready for the Council, Ianto.”

 

“I'm not allowed to go,” he sighed and rested his head on his arms, avoiding Jack's eyes. “It's the elected heads of the organisations or their representatives. I'm,” he waved vaguely. “Neither.”

 

Jack tugged the duvet right off the bed and dumped it on the floor, then folded his arms and looked down at Ianto. “Don't tell me you're going to listen?”

 

Ianto smiled out and reached out a hand for Jack to take and pull him up. “I take it you would like your personal assistant there, sir?”

 

“You're getting the idea.”

 

 

Brigadier Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart was held in high regard by everyone at UNIT for his close associations with the Doctor in years gone past. This came in two forms, regard from those who assumed that some of the Doctor's brilliance would have passed on to him, and respect from those who knew the Doctor and thought that Alastair must have the patience of a saint to put up with him. Both were deserved.

 

Right this moment, he was trying to work out if he'd got older and saner, or the Doctor had got younger and madder, in more ways than the physical. He was sitting and jiggling, constantly looking at the clock to see how close they were to the appointed time, and then jumping up to greet anyone who came through the door. The reactions to him ranged from Martin Hanley's cautious irritation, to Orlando Maiani's enthusiastic excitement. When the twitching figure bounded to his feet yet again, Alastair looked up with a weary sigh, cut off when he saw who it was. “Captain Charlond, welcome to UNIT London. You've met Captain Rant, I assume?”

 

He inclined his head to Rick and replied with a soft French accent, “I had not until I arrived last night. Alas that it is war which forces such meetings.”

 

“Indeed, without war we'd be much happier but not know as many people,” Alastair put his hand on the Doctor's shoulder and pulled him forwards. “And this is the Doctor.”

 

“It is an honour to meet you, sir,” he extended his hand to the Doctor, who shook it cheerfully. “Captain Anton Charlond, Director Charlond's son, I don't know if you've ever met him?”

 

“I haven't,” he told him. “Not spent much time on Earth in recent years, really. Well, not for long periods of time.”

 

“A year not withstanding.”

 

His smiled slipped and he nodded, then sniffed and gestured to the seats. “Doesn't count, I didn't really get to meet people.”

 

“No,” Anton smiled in return, though it was a little forced, and sat down in an empty seat. “Are we nearly ready now, Alastair?”

 

“Nearly,” he picked up the pile of paper in front of his seat and tapped it straight. “We are just waiting for Captain Harkness and Mr Jones.”

 

“Jones?” Martin looked up from his files sharply. “Why is he coming?”

 

“Because the Captain has been ill and we are disinclined to remove him from Ianto's company,” Alastair replied calmly, not looking away from his now neat paperwork. “And I suspect that that's them outside now.”

 

The voices in the corridor stayed low, but there was an uncomfortable pause before the guard on the door opened it into the room and stepped in to hold it for Jack and Ianto, who were looking respectively irritated and embarrassed. They smoothed their expressions over almost instantly, but not fast enough for their audience, and got out of the way so that the door could close. “We're not late, I hope?” Jack asked, pulling a chair out for Ianto before he sat in the one next to it.

 

“No, no, everyone else is enthusiastically early,” Alastair reassured him. “They also haven't been confined to bed for over a week, so I think we'll let you off, Captain.”

 

“Thank you, Sir Alastair. I hope we didn't miss the introductions by being on time?”

 

“Not at all,” he chuckled. “I think they'd be appreciated for everyone. I'm sure everyone's heard of the Doctor; Jack you know him, don't you?”

 

“You could put it that way,” he smiled past Alastair at the Doctor.

 

“This is Captain Harkness and Mr Jones from Torchwood, they have the.... device, which I've mentioned to you all. Captain Rant is our head agent on the case in the UK, Captain Charlond is his counterpart in Belgium; his father is the current director of UNIT in Europe. Colonel Odooyo is the head of UNIT in Britain, and Captain Mace has been liaising with Geneva. He's our man with the information.”

 

“Orlando Maiami is a research scientist from CERN whose field of expertise is in communication technologies, and Martin Hanley is the head of security for the British government at Thames House.”

 

Jack looked up sharply and Ianto rolled his eyes. “Has there been any news on the Cabinet?”

 

“No,” Martin tapped his pen on the desk and then dropped it. “It's becoming traditional, losing the Cabinet during an alien invasion. May I say that I'm pleased to see that you've made a full recovery, Mr Jones?”

 

Ianto inclined his head with a slight smile and a twitch that suggested that he had kicked his husband under the table. “Thank you, I'm quite pleased with the fact myself. Especially as so many others weren't so fortunate.”

 

“It was a close call for you though, I believe?”

 

“Always is,” he shrugged it off and turned in his seat to look at the Brigadier and the Doctor. “The ball seems to be in your court as to where we take this from here.”

 

“Captain Mace?” Alastair gestured for him to take over. “If you could tell us what we know.”

 

He stood up and looked around the table, then down to his notes. “We've tracked their ship to the Dead Sea, where we believe it is submerged or shielded from sight, as we can't get any visuals of it. Their forces are spreading East at the moment, towards China and Korea, who are putting up the greatest resistance. The Americas and Oceania states are currently taking our advice to sit quiet and comply with any demands, but the Asian Tiger states are determined to resist. If Russia joins with them as they have indicated they may, they could bring war to the heart of Europe before we can do anything about it.”

 

“Can we distance ourselves from Russia?” Anton asked.

 

“Only politically,” Rick pointed out, “which they really don't care about. Are they monitoring our communications, Orlando?”

 

“As far as we can tell, no. We've experimented with sending out communications regarding military movements and still had success in minor skirmishes against them, but they are also ignoring all direct communications.”

 

“What about the device?” Anton glanced at Jack and Ianto, then on to Orlando. “Could we use it to communicate with them? It could save lives.”

 

“No,” the Doctor cut in strongly. “There's no knowing what they're capable of. We already suspect them of some degree of mind control capabilities judging by what happened to Jack, we can't risk opening communications with them. It's also our only hope of defeating them for good.”

 

“But if we take it to Geneva, we can work on using it to broadcast the signal whilst communicating with them and trying to stop the bloodshed. People are dying daily.”

 

“It's a choice between some or all,” Jack interjected quietly. “Treating with them would only delay the day when they overrun the world entirely and we become just one more step on their ladder to domination. We have to destroy them for good.”

 

“Any you think you're the one to do it, I take it?” he asked, sounding very much like he disagreed.

 

“I can't die,” Jack shrugged, trying to pretend that he didn't hate the fact. “Better to risk my life than that of someone who can't afford to lose it.”

 

“But if they've got to you already...”

 

“Do you mind if we ask exactly what happened, Captain?” Orlando asked. “I must admit that I'm worried about the possible repercussions.”

 

“I was stabbed when we were attached on our way out of Wales. When I came back, I had light blindness essentially, and it seemed like I had some connection to them, although whether that was just a psychological reaction to what I was experiencing or an actual link, we don't know.”

 

“We're assuming, though, that their weapons can be used as a means of taking control of a person's mind and linking them to the neural network,” the Doctor continued for him. “As well as just killing. They aimed to kill with Jack, and succeeded, it just didn't stick. The effects lingered though. They probably had no control over him, or even an awareness of him, as they managed to evade capture.”

 

“I understand that you collapsed on the way here again?” Colonel Odooyo asked him, more gently than he'd expected.

 

Jack nodded, but it was Ianto who answered. “He collapsed at sea when we were three days from here, and died again a day after we reached here before we could break the control.”

 

There was utter silence around the table, then Alastair tilted his head. “Are we agreed that Jack will take the device, then?”

 

“Not alone,” Rick said what Ianto was thinking. “No offence, Jack, but you'll need as much help as you can get.”

 

“And Ianto's not letting you go anywhere without him,” the Doctor pointed out. “Neither am I, for that matter.”

 

“Anyone else?” Jack smiled.

 

“If you're heading through Europe, you're going my way,” Orlando smiled. “And Anton's?”

 

“Definitely. I think the war of minds will be moving to Geneva, it should be a stopping off point at the very least.”

 

“I'm in,” Martin sighed. “I need to go to Geneva anyway to talk about the huge number of missing politicians. So it sounds like you've got yourself a team, Captain.”

 

 

Tosh and Owen stopped outside Jack and Ianto's room when they heard raised voices and leaned against the wall to wait it out. They knew what it would be, again. Everyone except Ianto had figured out that Jack thought that having Ianto divorce him over it and never speak to him again was preferable to seeing him die. For some reason, Ianto hadn't yet called him a twat and walked, but that could be partly due to the fact that self-preservation and a desperate desire not to lose Ianto to anything had kept Jack from being particularly patronising, up to now at least.

 

When they heard the thump of a fist hitting a jaw, clear even through the door, Owen pushed the door open and walked in. Jack was sitting on the bed with the fingers of one hand pressed to his jaw, looking surprised and tired and sad and also slightly hopeful. Ianto was glaring at him, as tense as a spring, and Owen had to catch him and turn him back into the room when he tried to stride out. “Tosh, close the door, and stay on this side of it.”

 

She shut it firmly and was leaning against it with her arms folded when he glanced back at her, so he shoved Ianto on the bed next to Jack and mirrored her pose right in front of them, watching as Jack forewent probing his tender jaw to reach out to Ianto, who batted him off. “Grow up, kids,” he snapped. “Ianto, will you just accept that Jack's going to keep trying to protect you until he can't any more. Jack, will you please spare yourself a broken jaw and put up with the fact that he's not letting you go off alone?”

 

They both looked away from each other, one defeated and one angry. Jack was the first to sag, even further as it happened, and sigh. “I'm sorry. I just...”

 

“I'm not a child, Jack. I get to make my own choices. I've made my own choices,” he stressed without looking around.

 

“I know,” he dropped his hands between his knees and didn't look at anyone. “But can't I have credit for caring if you live or die?”

 

“Jack...” Ianto buried his face in his hands and Owen relaxed slightly. “What do we do now?”

 

“We go to Geneva,” Owen told them firmly. “All of us. And we take it from there. One day, one step at a time. And we keep each other safe, right?”

 

“Owen...”

 

“You're going to need a real doctor on this mission, quest, thing,” he pointed out.

 

“So why are you coming, Owen?” Ianto asked caustically.

 

Jack looked up at Owen, opening his mouth to protest, but then nodded and kept his head down. “Yeah.”

 

“You don't need to sound so defeated, Jack,” Tosh murmured by the door.

 

“How else am I supposed to sound, Tosh?” he demanded, standing up. Owen took a step back as Jack towered over him again, anger flaring slightly. “It would be nice if occasionally you'd all accept that I can afford to throw my life away and not insist on throwing yours away too, but I don't think you'll actually learn that soon enough.”

 

Tosh saw the look in his eyes and stepped out of the doorway. “We'll be here.”

 

He nodded at her once and left without saying anything else, so Owen sank onto the bed next to Ianto. “You don't think it might be an idea for him to win this one?”

 

“And what, die here instead?” Ianto sighed. “With no guarantees on my survival anywhere, I'm just going to stay as close to him as I can. He just swings between understanding that and mindfucking fear.”

 

“He cares about you, Ianto,” Tosh pointed out. “He loves you. He's just not very good at it.”

 

“I know, I know. I'm just... God, I shouldn't have hit him, but... I'm going after him,” he stood up and glared at Owen who moved between him and the door. “Owen?”

 

“Are you sure that's a good idea?”

 

“Yes,” he pushed past him, rolling his eyes. “I need to give him the opportunity to thump me back.”

 

“Remember that he heals faster than you,” Owen called out after him.

 

Ianto found Jack in the darkened common room, sitting at the counter with a bag of frozen peas pressed against his jaw. After a glance, unreadable in the darkness, he went back to staring at the wall, only a slight tension across his shoulders showing that he was aware of Ianto's continuing presence as he approached. “I'm sorry,” he whispered against the back of Jack's neck. “Let me see?”

 

With a sigh, Jack pulled the peas away and tilted his head. The dim light from the door and the open freezer weren't enough to show details, just the shadows of Jack's face throwing his features into a strange relief because of the angle, but the darkening bruise on his jaw was visible. Ianto leaned in and kissed it lightly, then took the peas from Jack and held them in place himself, guiding Jack's head to rest against his shoulder. They sat like that in silence, just the sound of their breathing and the crinkle of the bag of peas whenever Ianto shifted it, and the occasional drip as crystallised ice melted onto the floor. Jack was the first to break the silence with a sigh, pushing Ianto's hand away to probe the bruise gently. “I can't feel it any more, and those peas are really...”

 

“Cold, damp, lumpy?” Ianto set them down on the counter and flexed his hand, letting Jack take it and manoeuvre it when he reached out. Jack squeezed the heel of his palm between thumb and finger, then guided the hand against his chest and flattened his own on top of it. “Frozen peas tend to be like that.”

 

“You have cold hands.”

 

“And you have a sore jaw, both because I lost my temper when I shouldn't have,” he slid his arm further across Jack's chest and held onto him tighter. “Why do you put up with me?”

 

“Same reason you won't go home, I reckon,” Jack sighed and leaned back into him even more. “Can't let a moment slip away.”

 

Ianto nodded and his cheek rubbed against Jack's. “You drive me mad, that's probably how I cope.”

 

“I think I might have been already mad,” Jack chuckled and it rumbled against Ianto's chest. “I don't know though, mad seems like a nice enough place to be.”

 

 

They gathered in the foyer of the main building as darkness fell outside, talking in hushed voices without realising it. The Doctor was the last to appear, coming from a closed meeting with the Brigadier, Colonel Odooyo and Captain Mace. He looked tired as he looked over them, his gaze lingering on each of them, but then the tiredness vanished when he shouldered his bag and jogged down the steps to stand directly in front of Jack. “Your adventure, Jack,” he smiled and raised an eyebrow. “We follow your lead.”

 

He returned the smile and looked past the Doctor to the Brigadier, snapping to attention and saluting sharply. “Sir Alastair.”

 

Alastair returned it and leaned heavily on his stick. “Good luck, all of you. Because God knows you're going to need it.”

 

Jack turned to Ianto and smiled wryly, asking quietly, “Am I going left or right out of the door?”

 

“Left.”

 

“Right,” he straightened up and looked around at his newly formed group. “Let's go save the world.”

 

 

 

Their first target was Dover, where they planned to take a boat across to mainland Europe. As Owen pointed out, if Top Gear could manage it, it couldn't be that hard. Rick then pointed out that asking 'how hard can it be?' was a sure fire way to incite disaster. No one was really surprised when things went wrong in Dover.

 

Orlando held his gun in his hand loosely, tempted to crack Martin over the head with it and get it over with. The other man had taken the lead when they went scouting down to the harbour to check if the way was clear, insisting that he'd be better at it than 'just a scientist'. Owen's advice to shag him to relieve the tension really hadn't helped, although it did give something of an insight on Jack and Ianto's relationship. He stared off into the distance, trying to tune out Martin's friendly advice, and spotted something really, truly unwelcome. Moonlight glinted on silvery skin and protruding bones on the end of the harbour, and he heard a cut off yell to accompany the flash of a blade. He clamped his hand on Martin's shoulder, dragged him into the shelter of a skip and shoved him against the wall. “Shut up,” he hissed when Martin protested. “Shut up, they're on the harbour.”

 

“What?”

 

“Lashimi, on the harbour wall. Just killed someone, and no I don't know who,” he calmed his breathing and looked around at the other man at last, realising that they were pressed too close together in the gap between the skip and the corner. Martin's face was in darkness, but he didn't look happy. “We need to get somewhere we can see the harbour clearly and can't be seen.”

 

“Any ideas?”

 

“Yeah,” he looked upwards, then over his shoulder before emerging from the gap cautiously. “Travel lodge. Let's see if they have any vacancies.”

 

Martin followed him down the alley and round into the foyer of the building. He sat on one of the foam cushioned seats that feigned comfort and flicked his gaze between Orlando and the door. Orlando was dealing with the receptionist better than he would have done – he hadn't got his gun out, for starters. The poor kid sounded flustered as Orlando patiently explained that they wanted a sea view, as high up the building as possible, and that it really didn't matter that the room was a double. Martin snorted and stood up when Orlando collected the key, and slid a twenty pound note onto the counter. “And if anyone comes in looking for us, we slipped out the service exit, okay?”

 

The kid looked from the money to his face and nodded guilelessly. “Would you like a call to your room when they've been and asked, sirs?”

 

He smirked and passed him another twenty. “I'll stay here more often.”

 

“I'm doing well tonight,” he chuckled, making the note disappear and waving vaguely at a pair of traffic cones behind him. “Normally they pay me in pints.”

 

“Yeah, well, I'd hate to be considered a cheap date,” he drawled. “Keep up the good work.”

 

“What work?” he called. “You're the first people I've seen all night.”

 

Martin laughed and pushed through the doors onto the staircase, then jogged ahead to where Orlando was waiting for him on a turn, with his arms folded under his chin resting on the bannister. “Always worth tipping the staff,” he explained.

 

Orlando rolled his eyes and pushed himself upright. “Especially if they're cute?”

 

He gave a barking laugh and overtook him. “Well, good to know that one of us noticed. I have to say, he's not my type.”

 

“You have a type of man?”

 

“Sure; tall, blond and geeky, know anyone who fits the bill?” he taunted.

 

Orlando sighed and checked the key in his hand. “There's no need to be facetious.”

 

“That was more than two syllables, I have no idea what it means.”

 

“Syllables is three. This floor,” he pushed the door open and Martin had to retreat. “Top floor rooms are full.”

 

“Doesn't matter, we're pretty bloody high anyway.”

 

“Yeah, let's find the room,” he looked at the door closest to him. “Room number?”

 

“905,” Orlando found the room and planted his hand on the door. “Reckon they'll have tapped the room?”

 

“Only if they're so far ahead of us that it doesn't matter,” he nodded. “It'll be fine.”

 

“Good to know,” he opened the door and checked the room, then moved out of the doorway and sat on the bed. “You have a look, I'll get in touch with the Doctor.”

 

“What? Why?” he shut the door carefully and hurried to the window.

 

“Because they know we're here, he needs to move everyone back out of the town.”

 

“And then what?”

 

“I don't know, what can you see?” he was fiddling with a phone on his lap, connecting it to a tiny device that was probably an encoder. “Eyes on the life-threatening situation.”

 

“They are,” he protested. “It's just bloody dark. How are you doing over there?”

 

“Clear, as far as I can tell. Just... the signals are foggy.”

 

“Foggy?” he huffed against the window and wiped the condensation away with his sleeve. “I see them.”

 

“Close?”

 

“Staking the bar over the street,” he snorted and searched in his pocket for a cigarette. “Morons.”

 

“Not moronic enough,” Orlando pointed out. “They're considerably too close.”

 

“Yeah, and I'll bet anything that the boat's not here to meet us. Or... what exactly did you see?”

 

He sighed and waved the phone. “Listen in, I'm going to tell Jack.”

 

“Why Jack?”

 

“Hush,” he appeared to dial the phone normally and trapped it between his ear and his shoulder so that his hands were free to fiddle with the little device. “Jack?”

 

“How did you do that?”

 

“I'm a genius,” he rolled his eyes and reminded Martin of Jack's much quieter husband, but blonder, and taller if that was possible. “You need to get out of Dover. They were on the harbour.”

 

“Where?”

 

“We'd nearly reached the boat and I saw them on the end of the quay where the boat was supposed to be. I couldn't see if it was there, but I saw them kill someone,” he looked over at Martin. “We're in the Travel Lodge, and they're outside now.”

 

“How close are they?” Jack asked forcefully._ “Can you get out?”_

 

“Yeah, they're casing the bar over the road,” he looked over at the phone. “We'll get out as soon as we can.”

 

“_Okay. Head for the Chunnel in Folkestone, someone will meet you and bring you in to us.”_

 

“Will do,” he confirmed. “Take care.”

 

“Always. Get yourselves out of there safely.”

 

“That's the intention,” he hung up and went over to the window to join Martin. “What are they doing?”

 

“Still watching. One of them's gone in, though,” he looked over his shoulder at Orlando. “You're not bad, for a scientist.”

 

“Charmed,” he huffed. “He's back out.”

 

Martin looked back to the street and they watched the alien converse with its companions, then enter the building below them. Orlando made a conscious effort to keep breathing and tightened his grip on the window frame, craning forwards to see as much of the street as he could. The time dragged by interminably until the figure emerged again and the aliens bunched together on the corner, then hurried away. Still they didn't move, waiting by the window for a sign that the coast was truly clear.

 

The phone rang behind them and Martin practically dived across the room for it, sprawling across the bed. “You okay, kid? You... right, I'm coming down to you. Don't be thick, we're coming down now. Orlie?”

 

He dropped the curtain back into place and hurried to grab his things up off the bed. “What?”

 

“The kid's injured... fuck, I don't even know his name,” Martin snatched the key off the table and nearly wrenched the door open. “But it's clear.”

 

“What did they do to him?” he checked that the room was clear of their things and followed quickly. “Martin?”

 

“He wouldn't say,” he gritted out, taking the stairs two at a time. “Wouldn't even admit that he's hurt.”

 

They got down to the ground floor considerably faster than they'd got up – something to do with having gravity on their side (and wasn't it nice to know that someone was?) - but Orlando stopped them in the hall at the bottom of the stairs and pulled out a hand-held monitor. “Better check first,” he muttered, skipping across frequencies. “These are easy to... there.”

 

Martin took it off him and studied the CCTV footage of the reception area. “They could be in the blind points...”

 

“Well we know where they're not, and do you really have a better idea?” he asked, snatching it back. “Go patch up your injured toy boy and get out of here, or stand around in the stairwell until they come back?”

 

“Grow up.”

 

“Martin, there's aliens possibly about to kill us the instant we step out of that door and you want me to grow up?” he grabbed the handle and shook his head. “Not a chance.”

 

They emerged into the reception area and the only person there to greet them was the kid, looking paler than when they'd left him, trembling with fear and clutching something below the counter. When he realised it was them, he planted both his hands on the counter top and sagged with relief. “You're safe.”

 

“And you're a legend, kid,” Martin vaulted the counter and pushed him down into his seat, then started checking the injury on his arm. “This isn't bad, just painful I think. What did they want?”

 

“Well, I told them that I wouldn't tell them anything unless they paid me for it,” he hissed as Martin pulled the material of his sleeve away from the injury and Orlando, leaning over the counter with his elbows resting on it and his chin in his hands, winced with him. “They paid me in their currency.”

 

“One day soon, someone's going to walk in here and tell you that they've got a job for you,” Martin told him, almost gently. “If you go with them, your life will change forever. If you don't, you won't get another chance. What's your name?”

 

“Bit late to ask me that, isn't it?” he bit his lip again and closed his eyes. “It's Joe. Who are you?”

 

“Martin,” he answered, pulling a sterile bandage from his bag. “Pretty boy's Orlando.”

 

“Hi,” he groaned. “Nice to meet you. Now who are you?”

 

“Don't you think you're better off not knowing that?” Martin suggested. “Just, you know, a suggestion.”

 

“No, fuck off.”

 

“I'm someone quite powerful,” Martin chuckled and tied off the bandage. “You'll find out.”

 

“If I say yes.”

 

“If you say yes,” he confirmed. “You're going to say yes, aren't you?”

 

“Probably. I've always wanted to be a spy,” he grinned and flexed his arm. “That hurts.”

 

“Masochist. Right, we're going now. Keep your head down, stay out of trouble and don't see anything, okay?”

 

“Yes, sir,” his grin became a little more forced and he looked towards the door and away again, then said quickly, “I'm scared to stay here, and... that's alright, isn't it?”

 

“You'd have to be mad not to be,” Martin packed the few bits away into his bag and slung it over his shoulders again. “Is there anyone who can come and keep you company?”

 

“Yeah, I, my mate's coming round,” he pulled his sleeve down again to cover the wound and looked towards the door. “Get them out of here, fast.”

 

“We'll do our best. Do me a favour, Joe. When the shit hits the fan, someone will come for you. Don't ask questions, just do what you're told.”

 

Joe sighed resignedly and turned his gaze back to them. “Just keep myself safe?”

 

“Yes, because you're going to make a damn good spy one day,” Martin hitched his bag up again and left without another word, Orlando close behind. “So where now?”

 

“Folkestone,” Orlando pulled the 'Walks of Kent' leaflet out of his pocket and studied it in the dim light from the doorway. “That way. Long walk.”

 

“Hard push, I want to make it back to them by dawn,” he sighed at the idea himself, but they were too exposed here, separated from the group and reliant on the friendly whims of strangers like Joe. “I want this over.”

 

Orlando squeezed his shoulder and set off walking, passing him. “We all do.”

 

 

Rick smirked and stepped out of the shadows with his gun raised. “You need to exercise more caution.”

 

A click behind him made him raise his hands and lift his finger pointedly from the trigger. Martin glared over his shoulder and nodded sharply, and the sensation of having a weapon very close to the back of his head disappeared. “We're not in the mood for your training session, Captain.”

 

“You'll do anyway,” he reassured them, hiding his smile and picking his bag up again. “You must be exhausted.”

 

“Dead on my feet,” Orlando told him, holstering his gun and sounding it. “Please tell me there's hot drinks and sleep?”

 

“Sorry,” he grimaced sympathetically at Orlando's groan. “Hot drinks we can do, but we need to push through the tunnel as fast as we can.”

 

“You know, I was assuming we'd have a train or... something...” Orlando trailed off and set his shoulders. “Oh quack.”

 

Martin huffed and sighed at the lightening sky. “Let's get on with it, then, before the scientist falls asleep on his feet.”

 

Rick cut Orlando's response off and led the way through the back streets, past darkened houses and empty bus stops, a town still sleeping and hiding from the monsters that now haunted the day more than the night. He got them into the tunnel security area and nodded conspiratorially to the few security guards sitting in the booth, then across the narrow expanse of open ground into the mouth of the secondary tunnel. Their footsteps echoed on bare, stained concrete and the dim light of dawn was replaced by sterile eco-friendly bulb light. Orlando sniffed and grimaced. “It smells of dead stuff.”

 

“No, dead stuff smells a lot worse,” Martin corrected him. “This just smells of neglect.”

 

He sighed and followed. “I work with computers, this smells of dead computers.”

 

“I'll put them in my prayers when I go to bed,” he curled his lip. “Now shut up and walk.”

 

It was only another fifteen minutes before they found Tosh and Owen sitting at the entrance to a storage room, guns resting in their laps, back to back and watching both ways down the corridor. Owen's hand twitched towards his gun, and Tosh was holding hers firmly when she turned to face them, but they relaxed when they got close enough to be recognised in the dim light. Tosh got up and approached them, lowering her voice to say, “We're getting some rest and taking shifts on guard, you can sleep through to morning. There's cocoa in the flask. Jack and the Doctor are...” she trailed off and bit her lip. “They don't sleep much.”

 

They nodded at her and stepped carefully over their comrades in the room to find the empty corner where someone had laid out bedding for them. Sure enough, the Doctor and Jack were sitting in the back corner, heads close together, and they spared Martin, Orlando and Rick barely a glance. Ianto was fast asleep next to Jack, with his head on Jack's thigh, Jack's coat draped over him and one of Jack's hands on his shoulder, and it was hard not to feel lonely when faced with that image. Martin curled up into the smallest space he could possibly take up and shut his eyes against it.

 

When he woke the next morning, going from asleep to awake in the time it took to open his eyes, it was to the smell of cooking bacon and sporadic conversation; Tosh, Ianto and Orlando had their heads down over a laptop between them and a sandwich each, Rick and Anton were in the doorway, Jack was cooking and Owen and the Doctor were leaning against the wall, watching over everyone. He sat up and stretched carefully, making sure not to force his still tired muscles, then stood and joined Jack by the little stove that had appeared from somewhere. “You should have woken me,” he commented by way of greeting.

 

Jack shrugged and dropped another two rashers of bacon into the pan, then shrugged again. “No point. We're not ready to go yet, you need as much sleep as you can get, logic dictates that we let you sleep. Did you want bacon?”

  
“Yeah, thanks,” he looked around the room and leaned against the wall. “So, you and Ianto?”

 

“What about us?”

 

“I don't know, I'm not very good at getting past the opening gambit,” he shrugged. “Tosh and Owen?”

 

“No, unfortunately. You and Orlando?”

 

Martin spluttered and shook his head fiercely. “Just no, really no. Looks like you two are the only ones paired off.”

 

“It does, doesn't it?” he smiled over at Ianto, who wasn't looking their way anyway. “Today, at least.”

 

Jack fished two rashers of bacon out of the pan and onto a slice of bread, then waved the fork around. “Ketchup, brown sauce, whatever.”

 

“Thanks,” he made his sandwich up and stayed where he was, leaning against the wall next to Jack. “We should go to Brussels.”

 

Jack turned the last two rashers and shook his head. “Too much of a target, too much of a risk.”

 

“Jack, it's a two week hike to Geneva – we'll never make that. It's three days to Brussels, and from there we can organise transport to get us the rest of the way better than we can from Calais,” he mopped up a trail of sauce and watched Jack avoid his gaze. “What are you thinking?”

 

“I don't want to go to Brussels unless we can help it. You're right, it could be a good bounding point that they wouldn't expect, but it's also such a target for them... If no other way of getting there on time presents itself, then we'll go via Brussels, but only if there's truly no alternative.”

 

He sighed and nodded, then waved the sandwich. “At least they'd feed us lots in Brussels.”

 

“And I wouldn't have to cook,” Jack grinned and flipped the bacon onto the last slice of bread. “You see what I mean, though?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” he frowned. “I'm hoping that they'll have news of the cabinet there.”

 

“Still missing?”

 

He snorted. “No idea.”

 

 

The push through the tunnel took very little time at all, and soon Tosh told them that they were nearing the end. The lights here were less effective than they had been, and the tunnel even less well-kept. The empty rooms glared at them, and they hurried on towards the exit – some creature had taken this part of the tunnel for its own, and it wouldn't take kindly to having them on its territory. Jack stuck even more closely to Ianto, with a hand on his back as long as Ianto would tolerate it. The disquiet pressed down on everyone, forcing them to be near silent and overcautious.

 

Finally, they found it. Long black tendrils draped across the floor of the tunnel and stretched up the walls like vines, pulsing wetly and flexing. The Doctor tapped Tosh on the shoulder and held out his hand. “Scanner.”

 

She passed it over and looked over his shoulder. “What is it?”

 

“I don't know...” he studied the scanner and turned it around a few times. “It's sort of animal... vegetable... mineral... all of the above...”

 

“Doctor?” Jack asked quietly.

 

“Careful, very careful,” he warned, giving the scanner back to Tosh. “Don't step on it.”

 

“Well duh,” Rick gritted out, taking the first tentative step forwards. They held their breaths until he was on the other side and could look around the corner, then he waved them towards him. “Okay.”

 

Cautiously, ever so cautiously, they stepped over the vines, sometimes holding onto each other for balance. Rick reached out and caught Tosh as she reached him, offering her a steadying hand to step over the last of the vines. Finally they all got across and stood in the tunnel entrance, blinking in the light of the sun rising directly in front of them. “Where now?” Tosh asked quietly, hugging her computer bag in front of her.

 

“On to Geneva,” the Doctor answered quietly, and who knew what he was really thinking. He nodded to himself. “We need to find transport; it's too far to walk.”

 

“There's always bicycles,” Ianto suggested dryly.

 

Martin shook his head. “We should go to Brussels first. We can get information and fresh supplies there, and more transport options will be available to us. It's off route, less obvious than Nice and still a good stopping off point.”

 

“It's too risky and too far off route,” Jack protested. “We need to press on as much as we can and get help where we can.”

 

“But we might not be able to get help. Brussels is four pushed marches away and we'll definitely get transport there,” he leaned on the wall and folded his arms. “Geneva is two weeks away, and there's no guarantee that we won't have to walk all of that.”

 

“I'd rather risk that than...”

 

“Yes, but some of us would die before we got there, Jack,” Owen grunted. “We're not walking all the way there – definitely not if we're going to be doing a lot of walking beyond.”

 

Jack glared at him, then he tripped forwards and yelled as one of the long, creeping tendrils that had secured itself around his legs wrenched him backwards. Ianto grabbed for his arm and held on for as long as he could, but the pulsing mass that had filled the tunnel behind them drew Jack towards it fiercely and they lost their grip on each other. “Jack!”

 

Rick grabbed him and pulled him back so that he could get into the tunnel, Anton close behind him, both with knives drawn. “Go for the main tentacles. Ianto, get Jack.”

 

He didn't really need telling – already he had a knife from somewhere and was forcing his way through the attacking tendrils, reaching out for Jack's outstretched hand. “Don't let go,” he snarled, as he caught Jack's fingers with his own and used the slight grip to grab his whole hand. “Don't you ever let go.”

 

Jack grabbed onto Ianto's arm with his other hand as well, and Ianto had to hold on tight to a fusebox to stop himself being dragged away with him. Rick ducked under and found the main tentacle holding Jack up, driving his knife deep into it, so that the creature's screams joined Jack's yells. Orlando took aim and found the narrower tentacle that was wrapped around Jack's leg and it dropped him, the tendril lashing out and catching him hard across the back as he dropped into Ianto's arms. Ianto dragged him away, out of reach, and Anton and Rick followed them, slashing at the tentacles whenever they came close. “Everyone out, out!” Rick yelled.

 

Next to them, Tosh slammed a tiny bomb onto the tunnel wall, and Owen helped Ianto to drag Jack out. Once they were out in the open and the creature was writhing in the entrance of the tunnel she detonated the bomb, and the screaming was obliterated by a rumbling crunch. Jack wrenched his arm away from Owen and clung onto Ianto, dragging them both to the ground, where Ianto held him tightly and ran the fingers of one hand gingerly down his spine, feeling for injuries. A raised welt, as wide as two of his fingers, ran diagonally from the bottom of Jack's ribcage on one side to the jut of his hip on the other. Hissing, Jack pressed his face against Ianto's shoulder when he pressed down, then chuckled and pulled back before Ianto could lift his T shirt to examine it. “I'll live,” he pointed out with a wince, letting Owen help him up. “It's not so bad.”

 

Owen met Ianto's eyes over Jack's shoulder when Jack bent to help him up and shrugged. “It's not broken the fabric, so it's probably not infected or anything. I'm sure you can take a little soreness.”

 

Jack rolled his eyes and released Ianto. The others were putting their weapons away slowly and turning to face them again, their wariness heightened. “No going back now,” he pointed out quietly. “We need to get out of here fast.”

 

“If we push, can you keep up, Jack?” Rick asked.

 

“Yeah, I'll keep up,” he reached for his bag and glared when Ianto grabbed it before him. “Ianto...”

 

“You can have it back when you can actually carry it,” Owen interjected. “Now let's move.”

 

“Where?”

 

Jack met Martin's eye and nodded. “To Brussels. As fast as we can.”

 

Martin nodded. “With any luck, there'll be politicians there waiting to aid our passage through Europe.”

 

“Then let's get going,” the Doctor dragged his gaze away from the blocked tunnel entrance and glanced briefly in Jack's direction. “Follow me.”

 

They pushed on across Northern France in long marches, broken by short stops in nearly silent villages. People regarded them with suspicion, and were pleased to see them move on when they'd eaten and slept. On their fourth break, on the outskirts of Brussels, Jack sat with his back against the wall of the empty factory they'd taken shelter in, lost in his own thoughts whilst Ianto slept with his head pillowed on Jack's thigh. The Doctor sat next to him and looked down at Ianto for a while, a thoughtful expression haunting his eyes. Jack squeezed Ianto's shoulder and rubbed his arm when he stirred slightly. “You wanted something, Doctor?”

 

He nodded, not looking away from Ianto, and answered equally quietly. “Just thought I should check on you.”

 

“Thanks,” he tipped his head back against the wall again and sighed. “We're being followed, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I know,” the Doctor rested his chin in one hand and looked up at Jack. “They're human, though.”

 

“Not always a good thing,” Jack pointed out. “Don't you ever despair of us?”

 

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But then just look at you all, strangers uniting to protect people. And you two...” he smiled fondly and waved a hand to indicate Jack and Ianto. “You restore my faith in humans.”

 

“Just him, Doctor,” Jack looked down at Ianto sadly. “He's... something special.”

 

“I can tell. It's the way you look at him,” he tilted his head.

 

“I wish it had come sooner, or later,” Jack admitted, “so that I couldn't lead him into danger like this. I wish it had never come to me at all.”

 

“So do all who live to see such times. All we have to do is decide what to do with the time appointed to us.”

 

“I've got all the time in the universe, Doctor,” he looked up. “That's a lot of decisions.”

 

“Your time looks very finite at the moment, Jack,” the Doctor gestured to Ianto, still sleeping. “The time we're given isn't just our own time.”

 

“We don' need telling,” Ianto murmured groggily, opening an eye to glare at the Doctor. “'m not letting him go.”

 

“Good,” he clapped his hands and jumped to his feet. “Miss Sato, what have you got there?”

 

“I'm picking up signals, Doctor,” she called out over the room, stirring everyone awake into movement. “Close to us and closing in. They're scans of some sort.”

 

“How far away?”

 

“Half an hour at their current speed, but that's faster than we are,” she looked up. “at their current speeds and our optimum speed, I'd calculate that we can make it to the British embassy in Brussels, but we'll have to make a stand there.”

 

They stood for a second, then moved. Rick called out orders, “Leave everything that can be spared. Food, cooking equipment, anything like that can be replaced. Take the tech, and travel as light as possible.”

 

Jack offered Ianto his hand and dragged him up. “Is there anything you need to bring?”

 

“Yeah, just this,” he pulled a smaller bag out of his pack and checked it, then shouldered it whilst Jack was still sorting through his. “I came prepared.”

 

“Good thinking,” Jack grinned and tossed the bits he was taking back into his pack, then fastened it and hauled it on, standing to kiss Ianto. “Running for our lives; it always seems to happen when he's around.”

 

“Jack, Ianto, come on,” Tosh called across to them.

 

Ianto nodded over at her and gave his abandoned pack a last forlorn look, then they hurried out of the building with everyone else. The Doctor was standing by the corner of the street, studying the map by the light of his sonic screwdriver, and looked up at their approach. “Is that everyone out?”

 

“We're the last, sir,” Ianto confirmed. “Which way now?”

 

“That way,” he pointed out the street and raised his head. “We'll go straight up the main road – there's no use in subtlety now. A straight road, as fast as we can.”

 

“And catch a bus if we find one,” Ianto muttered, taking Jack's hand. “Let's go.”

 

Tired as they were, without having had a proper rest, and pushing as fast as they could, it was painful and exhausting even with lighter loads. Ianto clasped Jack's hand tightly, squeezing harder as they went on and letting Jack keep him walking. Only Jack, Orlando and the Doctor weren't showing signs of tiredness – Martin, Anton and Rick trudged on stoically, whilst Tosh and Owen stuck close together and in the middle of the group, concentrating on keeping up to keep themselves going. Orlando, who had proven himself a surprising crack shot and able to function on very small amounts of sleep, brought up the rear, whilst the Doctor led the way.

 

Finally, they passed the Irish Embassy on their left, dim lights sweeping up the drive towards an imposing house, and scurried across the road to the British Embassy across the road. Martin pressed the intercom repeatedly, turning to look at them anxiously when there was no answer. “You think they've been here?”

 

“Nothing we can do about it if they have,” the Doctor pushed him out of the way and used his sonic screwdriver on the gates, pushing them just open enough for them to get through. “It's the only place we have – inside, quickly.”

 

They stumbled up the driveway and straight in at the front door, slamming it shut behind them. Inside, the house was silent, and the coppery smell of blood hung on the air. “Yes, they've been here,” the Doctor looked around the entrance hall, giving them impression that he saw more than they could. “Martin, where's the garage?”

 

“Round the side, but it'll be empty...”

 

“Good, bring explosives. You, Orlando and Tosh, I want you to set the garage to blow, but not until we get through. Jack, you're in charge here. Hold them off for as long as you can, then guide them through to the garage. Ianto, you'd better come so that you can show them the way.”

 

He nodded and released Jack's hand, hurrying after the group to the garage, then back to Jack. “It's down that hall and on the left. Jack, he wants you to...”

 

“Yeah, decoy, I figured,” he looked around and laid out his strategy. “Anton and Rick in that doorway there, pick them off as they come through. Don't let them get close to you. Ianto, take the foot of the stairs, behind the curve,” he reached into his bag and pulled out the device. “And take this. You have to get out of here with it.”

 

“Jack...”

 

“No, Ianto,” he turned him around and put it into his rucksack, then turned him back and took his hands. Screams and a clanging sounded as the gate opened. “You have to get out with it. If I'm a decoy... we can't risk it being damaged.”

 

Ianto surged forwards and cupped the back of his neck to kiss him fiercely. “Don't keep us waiting too long.”

 

“I won't,” he promised, then pushed Ianto away. “Positions, guys, quick.”

 

Ianto stumbled away from him, then dived for the cover of the staircase as they started hammering on the door. Anton leaned out of the doorway, having looked out of the window in the side room. “They have a Sandkin,” he groaned as the door shuddered again.

 

“Shit,” Jack leaned back against the sofa and looked up at Ianto. “Stay safe. For God's sake, stay safe.”

 

“I intend to,” Ianto smiled at him darkly and clicked the safety off. “Ready?”

 

Jack nodded and knelt up, looking over the top of the sofa as the doors burst open. The sound of gunshots echoed and rattled around the marble hallway over the screeching of strange, skittering creatures that called to mind a cross between a stick insect and a bat, and the roar of the Sandkin. The creatures fell quickly to the onslaught, and those that survived fell back behind the Sandkin to let it smash them aside. Jack had to reload before he could take aim, and it was virtually on him by the time he could fire again. It roared down at him and reached out with a giant hand, for what he didn't know, and his shots ricocheted off its thick skin. He fell onto his back on the floor, out of its reach, but trapped. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ianto break and come towards it, catching its attention, and his stomach tied itself into a knot. As he lurched upwards at it, though, it gave a low grunt and swayed, and when it turned down to look at him again he saw that someone had got a direct hit into its eye.

 

He backed off, waving Ianto, Anton and Rick down the corridor, and watched with some sadness as it toppled to the floor at his feet. Orlando grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away as the strange creatures burst in again. “I thought you might need some help,” he grinned nervously and bolted down the corridor, leading the way.

 

They hared down the corridor and out through the garage, scattering the others in their path, and they all burst out of the small garage door like rabbits from a hole. Jack, at a nod from the Doctor, took his position in the doorway and held the creatures back whilst the team got far enough away. When the garage was full of them, none brave enough to approach him just yet, he slammed the door shut and hurtled down the garden towards them, throwing himself flat at a yell from Tosh, so that he felt the heat of the explosion graze over him.

 

He lay still for a moment, catching his breath as the fire settled behind him, and soon felt hands on his shoulders turning him over, and Ianto's hand cupped his cheek. “Jack, Jack, are you alright?”

 

“Yeah,” he struggled upright and leaned on Ianto, glad of the comfort and reassurance. “Just winded myself falling.”

 

“Only you,” Ianto sighed, with evident relief. “Come on, we have to push.”

 

He nodded and found Ianto's hand, holding on to follow him down the garden to the small back gate. The others were waiting for them, looking up at the Embassy as fire spread from the garage into the main house. “I think we can safely say that the British Government are not safe and well,” the Doctor mused. “And neither are we yet. There will be more, and they'll come after us.”

 

“What are they?”

 

“Okrani,” he turned and ducked out through the overgrown bushes to find the gate. “Stupid, skittish and very dangerous. They'll use blades against guns and win through brutality and weight of numbers. They've been growing in number in the forest and mountain regions of Europe, especially in the foothills of the Himalayas.”

 

“Do you think they're something to do with the Lashimi?” Ianto asked.

 

“I think they must be, but what?” he shoved his hands in his pockets and set off down the road, and they followed him without question. “Unless they brought them as an army, rather than get their own hands dirty. The Lashimi lost you when you caught the boat, and although they knew where you were, they didn't know where that was. Now... I don't know what they'll do now. They must be close.”

 

“Where are we going now?” Rick asked when the Doctor paused on a street corner.

 

“To the NATO headquarters,” he straightened his shoulders and looked at Rick. “We can't go to the EU, not if they're going to the Embassies. We go to the military and they get us to Geneva.”

 

“Understood,” they all nodded and he looked past them. “At a run, I think. We aim for the river.”

 

If anyone saw them, they paid them no notice as they ran through the darkened streets, galvanised by the adrenaline of the near miss at the Embassy. They thought that their luck was up when they raced through the park and Okrani started to appear like ghosts from trees and bushes, but they scattered quickly, scared by something more than the small band of travellers. Jack and Ianto exchanged a worried look, and the Doctor stared off in the direction that the Okrani had fled from, fear written in his eyes. “Keep running.”

 

“That was the plan,” Jack pushed at him to get him moving again.

 

Finally, they reached the bridge to the NATO headquarters. Beyond, they could see sentries on duty, which told them that all was not lost. Behind them, a shadow trailed down the hill, darkening every light it passed. The bridge was only wide enough for one at a time, a cast iron construction that could have done with a coat of paint, or possibly rebuilding, and the river below swirled with the autumn's heavy rain, thick, fast and brown. Jack ushered Ianto ahead of him and looked back over his shoulder to find Rick ushering him in turn. “Across now, Captain. Whatever that creature is, we can't let it cross behind us.”

 

He nodded and hurried across to join those who had already crossed, then looked back to see the Doctor standing in the middle of the bridge, hands on the rails at either side, leaning forwards with his sonic screwdriver in one hand against the rail. “Doctor?”

 

Ianto grabbed his wrist to stop him moving as the shadow stepped onto the bridge and suddenly blared brightly with the light it had taken in. Stillness fell for a moment, then the Doctor raised his screwdriver to point it at the rails of the bridge. “Go back,” he told the shadowy form. “Go back and leave us.”

 

It raised up in answer and the light glowed brighter, nearly blinding.

 

“I said go back,” he activated the screwdriver and the bridge started creaking. “You shall not pass.”

 

The shadow-light surged forwards again and the Doctor turned back as the shrill whining of his screwdriver increased. “Fly, you fools.”

 

Jack yelled out and strained against Ianto's hold as the bridge crumbled and fell into the river, taking the Doctor and the shadow with it.

 

Sounds faded out around him, and Ianto pulled him away from the river and into the compound. The team's shocked expressions faded through his sight and out of his awareness. He was utterly numb, cold and empty inside. The Doctor was the one person he could count on, the one person who would always be there... always. Suddenly angry, he dragged himself out of Ianto's comforting grip, leaving him standing in the rain as he walked away. Rain ran into his eyes and sparked him to tears, chilling his skin to match the rest of him. He didn't know how long he stood there alone, arms wrapped around his chest as if that would stop it hurting, but he finally felt Ianto's hands rest on his shoulders and turn him, then guide him to and into a waiting car, where he simply held Jack and let him cry himself out.

 

When the numbness eased, pushed aside by pain, Jack tightened his arms around Ianto's waist and turned his head so that he could press a dry kiss to the hollow of his throat. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

 

“Don't be,” Ianto chided, stroking his open palm down Jack's back. “I'm here for you, whatever you need.”

 

Jack buried his face into Ianto's shoulder and nodded minutely. “Where is here?”

 

“We're in a car on the way to Geneva. There was only room for three to a car, so I commandeered the one with only two people,” he pressed his lips to the top of Jack's head when he trailed off, and Jack shifted to get more comfortable against him. “Jack, what if... what if this is what he meant? Or he didn't know... Maybe...”

 

Jack shuddered and tightened his arms around Ianto further, to what must have been almost painful levels. “I know,” he whispered. “I hope you're right, I really do. I can't lose you too, Ianto, not... not now.”

 

“You won't.” Ianto turned his head to kiss Jack's temple and held on fiercely.

 

 

They arrived at the entrance to the facility nine hours later as the sun rose over the tops of the mountains. Ianto's chest rose and fell steadily under Jack's palm, and his heart thudded out the seconds under Jack's ear. The three cars rolled to a stop side by side and disgorged their sleepy, grieving passengers. Martin rubbed his hands together and stamped his feet, grumbling, “Bloody scientists.”

 

Orlando raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “Are we really so bad?”

 

A dark haired young man approached them, extending his hand to Orlando. “Orli, we're glad to have you back safely.”

 

“I'm glad to be back,” he returned, heartfelt. “I've been gone too long.”

 

Rick stepped up beside him and gripped the newcomer's hand. “Brian Cox. You're a familiar face these days.”

 

“Welcome back, Rick,” Brian smiled. “It's been far too long since you were around these parts last. Now come on, you must be exhausted, and she's waiting for you.”

 

They descended in a glass and steel lift into a world of concrete and chrome, shining corridors with polished floors and bright lights, and were led to an airy meeting hall, where Perdita Rubbia waited for them with her husband, Antonio Rubbia. She was the Director General of CERN, a tall, elegant woman with waist-length waves of silver hair and sea-grey eyes that somehow showed none of her age but all of her wisdom. Jack met her gaze and felt strangely young in her eyes, merely a child compared to her knowledge and experience, but then she smiled at him softly and the change lent a cherubic innocence to her face that brought the weight of his own years crashing back down.

 

Antonio looked around them again and frowned. “Tell me, where is the Doctor,” he asked in a lilting Spanish accent, “for I much desired to speak with him.”

 

“He fell,” Martin answered thickly.

 

“It was a creature of shadow and light that followed us through Brussels,” Orlando finished for him. “He saved our lives and those of all in the compound, but at the cost of his own.”

 

“Oh, that's very him,” Perdita smiled sadly and inclined her head slightly. “You are tired, I can see. You will be shown to your rooms, and a guide will come to you later to show you the facilities.”

 

They stayed there for a week, regrouping, waiting for news and mourning. Orlando spent most of his waking hours in the laboratories and research suites, pouring over communications data with his colleagues and friends, and Martin surprised many by accompanying him when the situation permitted, enduring the ribbing he got from Orlando's friends for the company he shared. Jack was rarely seen except by Ianto, who bullied and coddled him by turns into eating and sleeping until he was ready to face the world again.

 

Late on their eighth night there, when Ianto finally fell asleep sprawled across the bed next to him with one arm draped over Jack's stomach, Jack eased himself out of bed and dressed silently, kissed the curve of Ianto's nearest shoulder and the corner of his lips before he slipped from the room onto the corridor. There were very few people around this late; those who were still awake were mostly in laboratories, staring at sensitive experiments and keeping themselves awake by the constant application of hot coffee. He found Perdita in one of these rooms, hands wrapped around a mug and hair pulled back from her face by an ornate clip to allow her to watch the computer programme running. She turned and smiled at him, patting the seat next to her. “Come in, Jack. I have coffee, although I'm afraid it's not as good as your Ianto's.”

 

“Why do you think I married him?” he asked with a wry smile, sitting next to her and declining her offer with a shake of his head.

 

“It was for more than his coffee, I hope?”

 

“Well yes,” he admitted. “Practicality, making a statement, desperate panic...”

 

“Love?” she asked.

 

“Well, that too,” he smiled wryly and looked over at her. “We saw Alastair at UNIT's headquarters.”

 

“Yes, he told us you were coming,” she shook her head. “You are not half so subtle as you think, Captain.”

 

“Twice as charming though,” he joked. She just rolled her eyes and turned back to her model, so he moved his chair closer and looked over her shoulder. “Do you mind if I ask?”

 

“It's a projection of the future. A complex and flawed computer simulation. It could be right, but it could be wrong,” she gave him an assessing look out of the corner of her eyes. “Do you want to know?”

 

“Will I cope with knowing?”

 

“That's rather up to you,” she pointed out. When he nodded, she turned to face him fully and hugged her mug. “All these years you've defended Cardiff, and it will fall, Jack. They will use the people for slaves – men to fight and to build weapons for them, and the women to breed them an army. They will take the children, Ianto's niece and nephew among them, to raise them as soldiers. Cardiff will become a munitions factory, and Torchwood Three will be the heart of operations.”

 

His hands gripped the arms of the chair, and he knew that he'd paled. “I should be there, I should be there to protect them.”

 

“You are protecting them, Jack,” she chided him and pinned him to his seat with a glare. “That is what will happen if you fail. You are their only hope.”

 

“But what if I fail?” he asked quietly. “Or what if I succeed but...”

 

“You will succeed, because you must,” she reached out and rested her hand on his arm. “And you will keep him safe, because you will allow no alternative.”

 

 

They were taken to Lake Geneva under cover of darkness, where they joined the boat that would take them to the Mediterranean by river. Most of them went below deck immediately to stay out of view and get as much sleep as they could. Rick, though, sat in the prow of the boat, chin in his hands to watch the water flow below them. He looked up when Anton approached and patted the bench beside him. “Couldn't sleep either?”

 

“No,” Anton looked up at the sky and frowned. “I wanted to talk to you.”

 

“Oh? Anything in particular?”

 

“About Jack,” he turned to Rick and leaned forwards. “I know that he is our natural leader now that the Doctor is gone, but he has too many of his own decisions to make to make decisions for us as well. And, as I'm sure you have realised, he is... distracted.”

 

“Distracted?” Rick turned a contemplative look on him. “You mean by Ianto?”

 

“Yes. He is too concerned with Ianto's safety, and that is understandable,” he held a hand up to silence Rick's protests. “But you cannot tell me that you are not concerned by the implications.”

 

“I would rather he concentrated half of his attention on ensuring that Ianto's safe here, than worrying if he's alright back in Cardiff,” Rick sighed and squeezed the back of his neck. “But you're right, he can't lead us.”

 

“I am worried,” Anton confessed quietly. “These creatures have been ahead of us at every turn, and they will prevent us if they can. If this device that Jack carries should fall into their hands we will have no recourse, no way to fight back and our world will fall. If we could take it on, instead, to Italy, to the UNIT headquarters there, we could use it against them to destroy them without taking the risk of walking with it into their trap.”

 

“The Doctor said...”

 

“The Doctor,” Anton huffed. “The Doctor had some grand plan, but do you really think that falling was part of it? He underestimated our foe, as we all did, and he paid the price. We cannot pay that again.”

 

“And I will not allow the risk of it going to Milan,” Rick snapped.

 

“My father...”

 

“Your father is a good man, but I wouldn't trust any of the current establishment with it. They are not soldiers, Anton, they are bureaucrats,” he huffed and looked ahead down the river again. “They would argue, they would discuss the benefits of using it, or hiding it, or sending it away, or even sending Jack with it. And whatever they chose, it would be clinical and wrong. Imagine if they chose to send Jack in with it? It would be too late, and he would be taken. At least they wouldn't let Ianto go with him, I suppose.”

 

Anton glared at him. “You do not give them enough credit. At least they are not in charge because they have shown skill in killing.”

 

“And on that note, I'm going to bed,” Rick stood up. “I suggest you get as much sleep as you can before we reach Tel Aviv.”

 

 

They stopped in a tiny coastal village in the early afternoon, waiting for the cover of darkness and the larger boat which would take them across the sea. In the middle of the school hall they'd rented for the night, Tosh, Orlando and Ianto sat with their heads close together, poring over scans and printed results for any clue about what they would face once they reached Tel Aviv. Rick frowned at seeing Ianto without Jack close by and looked around the room for him. “Ianto, where's Jack?”

 

He looked up from the computer and searched the room with worried eyes. “I don't know. Did Anton not say anything either?”

 

“No,” he pushed off the wall and went to offer Ianto a hand up. “They shouldn't wander off, Jack especially. Where might he have gone?”

 

“I... I don't know,” Ianto ran a hand through his hair and looked around. “When's the boat due?”

 

“Any time now,” Tosh looked up from the floor. “Ianto, he wouldn't leave without you.”

 

“No?” Ianto grabbed his bag and strode towards the door. “Maybe if there was someone who'd take a message for him, he would.”

 

“Anton wants the device to go to Milan,” Rick pointed out. His and Ianto's eyes met and he nodded. “We need to find them.”

 

“Ianto, these readings,” Tosh called out, “I don't think our worry is what we're going to meet over the sea, I think they're here already.”

 

Rick looked alarmed at Ianto, who nodded and ran a hand through his hair again. “Of course we have immediate problems, life would be so dull otherwise,” he snapped. “How close?”

 

“I can't tell, not without doing more detailed scans that would give away their location.”

 

Orlando nodded. “Find him, Ianto, and get him back here.”

 

 

Jack stood amongst the graves, beneath an ancient yew tree, and closed his eyes to let the peace wash over him. This graveyard wasn't used any more – it had filled up over the centuries, and the municipal graveyard in the next town was now the final resting place for village residents. Here under the yew and close to the walls of the church, the gravestones had been set before Jack arrived on Earth to start on his slow journey, but he would surely outlast them. Behind him, autumn leaves crunched under someone's feet and he swung around, hand flying to his gun, but he relaxed when he saw Anton. “I didn't think anyone would look for me here,” he confessed.

 

Anton shrugged and smiled. “I followed you from the school. None of us should venture out alone; you least of all, Jack.”

 

“You're right, of course,” he conceded with a sigh. “I miss my freedom, being able to wander off and not tell anyone where I'm going is nice.”

 

“I can believe that,” Anton leaned against the tree and looked up through its branches to the sky. “It must be a heavy burden, to carry the world's only hope.”

 

Jack gestured to the grave next to him and then the graveyard around them. “Sometimes I wonder why I do it, why I worry about the individuals when they'll be gone so soon anyway. Especially why I get involved with individuals, when the more people I know, the more people I'll lose. But eventually I realised, it's by looking after individuals that I can protect the world. If I can get Ianto, Tosh and Owen, and Gwen, through each day, they're still there to help others. Getting this... thing, to where it can destroy them, really, is no different and no harder than making sure that Gwen goes home to Rhys at the end of a working day.”

 

“Or making sure that Ianto goes home with you.”

 

“Yeah, or that,” he agreed.

 

“Wouldn't you rather that were someone else's burden?” Anton asked sympathetically. “If we took it to Milan, we could fight them on our terms and our turf. It's too much of a risk sending you in there, for Ianto especially, but for the world as well.”

 

“You know, using him to appeal to me emotionally is a really low blow,” Jack objected stiffly, realising that he now needed to pass close to Anton to get out of the graveyard, and not really trusting the man enough. “I thought it was below you.”

 

“I'm just concerned, Jack,” Anton protested. “Can't you understand that? You don't see the pitched battles that we do, but I know you've seen them in war, Captain. If you’d had access to the information held on that device, that could have saved your men's lives, but weren't allowed to use it, what would you have done?”

 

“That would depend entirely on whether I trusted my leaders,” he answered quietly. “I trust the Doctor to choose the right thing.”

 

“Really? After what he chose during that year?” a smile flickered when Jack stiffened. “Of course I know about that year, Jack. My father replaced Colonel Sampson, remember?”

 

“Yes, I trust him. And it's because of that year, not in spite of it,” he hissed. “I know that he will always put this world first, above everything.”

 

“Even over you?”

 

“Especially over me,” he pulled back further as Anton took a step forwards and the backs of his knees bumped into the grave. “Anton.”

 

Anton froze in his advance and they glared daggers at each other, then Jack moved off the grave, pushing past him roughly and striding out of the graveyard. Anton called after him fiercely, “You'll take it straight into their hands, Captain, and you will see him die and then you will see this world fall.”

 

He broke into a run down the hill, towards the jetty. His muscles burned with the exertion and his lungs with the cold, and running down a slope like this was the closest thing to flying. Seeing Rick rounding the corner, he slowed to a stop and caught his breath. “What about you, Rick? Do you agree with Anton?”

 

“Not recently,” Rick broke off approaching him when Jack backed away. “What has he said?”

 

“That we should go to Milan,” he swallowed and took another deep breath to steady his heart rate. “And that I'm going to kill us all.”

 

“Then no,” Rick reassured him, resting a hand on Jack's shoulder when he finally relaxed. “You're doing the right thing, you know you are.”

 

“Yeah. Rick...” they both looked down as Jack's wrist-strap started beeping rapidly.

 

“That thing never beeps,” Rick frowned at him.

 

“And yet still more often than I'd like it to,” Jack flipped it open and his face paled. “Oh no.”

 

“Shit,” Rick pushed Jack away, down the hill. “Get to the boat and go, Jack. I'll find Ianto...”

 

“No,” Jack gripped his wrist. “Look after him.”

 

Rick held his gaze for a moment before nodding his assent, and Jack released him. “He'll never forgive you.”

 

“As long as he's alive,” Jack squeezed Rick's shoulder and took off down the hill again, and Rick turned up the hill towards the screaming.

 

He found the graveyard where Anton had accosted Jack swarming with Okrani. They were larger than the ones that had caught them in Brussels, and there was a blue sheen to their scales. He pulled back behind a parked van to use it as cover and started picking them off from a distance, but it was clearly only a matter of time before he would have to resort to knife fighting to protect himself.

 

 

Jack got into the main village before he encountered trouble again. Okrani thundered down the main street past where he was crouched behind a car, and every time he thought the coast was clear, another group would appear. Across the road from him, Tosh and Owen crouched below the window of the village pub, appearing over it every time the coast was clear to beckon him over to them.

 

He shook his head yet again and Owen gripped Tosh's arm. “He's leaving.”

 

She stuttered and stared at Jack. “He... but... No,” pulling away from him, she pushed the door open and made it halfway across the road before he grabbed her again. “Owen!”

 

“Tosh, let him...” Okrani surged around the corner ahead of them, coming from the direction of the jetty, and Owen tugged Tosh's arm. “Jack, go. Hey!” he raised his voice and snatched up a stone from the road to throw towards the Okrani. “This way!”

 

Tosh caught on and took a couple of steps backwards up the hill, away from Jack. “Looking for us? We're over here.” The Okrani, after a moment's hesitation, started forwards towards them again. “Owen, it's working.”

 

“Yes, Tosh, I know it's working. Now run,” he pushed her up the hill and they ran, drawing the Okrani away from Jack, who closed his eyes in a heartfelt prayer for them and dashed from his hiding place.

 

Rick was hard pressed to keep his position now. If any more attacked him from another angle, he would be in serious trouble. They were getting braver now, and would soon realise that if they attacked in a large group, their individual chances of survival were higher – which, admittedly, didn't appear to be high on their list of priorities – and he couldn't possibly take them all down before they killed him.

 

So his relief when he heard yells approaching from behind him, and saw several of the creatures fall to Orlando's exceptional shooting before he and Martin joined Rick behind his van, was enormous. Orlando grinned at him and took another three down with the remainder of his clip whilst Rick reloaded, then reloaded his own gun whilst Rick took over. “We thought you might need some help over here.”

 

“Thanks,” he chuckled dryly and knelt up again to pick more off. “We just need to keep them busy long enough for Jack to get away.”

 

They considered this in silence, Martin watching the way he and Orlando had come. “He'll be alright, as long as Ianto's with him?”

 

Rick shook his head. “He's gone alone,” and he was out of bullets again, so he sank down next to Martin to reload. “Ianto's going to be pissed.”

 

“Seriously,” Orlando breathed out and glanced down at him. “Where is he?”

 

“I've not seen him since he went to the jetty to look for Jack.”

 

Martin gritted his teeth and pushed himself upright. “It's swarming with Okrani down there. Fuck, I hope he's alright.”

 

 

Tosh yelped as Owen tugged her down a little side alley again and glanced behind her at the following hoard of Okrani. They burst out the other end of the alley into a car park and stopped dead, finding themselves faced with another hoard ahead. They drew their guns and stood back to back. “Jack's gonna kill us for this,” Owen whispered.

 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Hopefully.”

 

He laughed bitterly and nudged his shoulder back into hers. “Blaze of glory, couldn't ask for more, yeah?”

 

“Yep, definitely,” she smiled and set her shoulders. “Just wish they'd get on with it.”

 

One of the larger Okrani snarled and lurched forwards towards them, and Owen was bracing himself to take the shot when Anton appeared out of nowhere, bringing it to the ground with a tackle and stabbing it with a long blade. He pulled the blade out and pointed it at them with a grin. “In France too we play rugby. This fight, it is knife work.”

 

Owen offered him a hand up and accepted the two blades he offered. “Kitchen knives? Better than nothing, I suppose.”

 

“Anything is better than nothing.”

 

 

Martin whacked another of the creatures with his spade and stamped his foot down on it. “I need a sword, a big sword,” he stated as calmly as he could. “I'd look fantastic with a sword.”

 

Orlando peered out from under the dashboard of the van for long enough to say, “Axe, big axe,” then disappeared below it again to carry on swearing at the wiring. Rick and Martin stood at each of the doors, protecting him, whilst he hotwired the van for use as an offensive weapon.

 

Rick was about to snap at him to hurry it up before they got slaughtered when the van lurched into life, and Orlando gave a whoop. “Right, Martin, in.”

 

“You're closer,” Martin hurled himself around the front of the van and shoved Rick in before him. “Now drive, Orlando, drive!”

 

“We need to find Anton,” Rick said grimly. “Ianto will have found Jack, however much Jack wishes he wouldn't, and Tosh and Owen will be together, but I expect that Anton's alone.”

 

“God help him,” Martin sighed.

 

 

Anton slashed at another of the Okrani which got too close and ducked under the blade of another, backing up further with Tosh and Owen. They had no idea where they were now, only that they were a long way from the jetty. They were all flagging, and the enemies were an unending tide. One of them grabbed at Tosh, again, and he dove to the side to dispatch it, only to feel white hot pain in his side. He lashed out without thinking, then clamped his hand to his side and felt the warm flow of blood. Time seemed to slow and crystallise, then raced ahead again after another, deeper, stab. Tosh yelled as they used her distraction to grab her, and Owen snarled and launched himself at them, only to be dragged away himself. Anton dropped to his knees and dropped his knife to be able to press both hands to his wounds, but it was clearly an exercise in futility.

 

He looked up as one of the remaining Okrani approached him, and he snarled at it. “You're just pawns, aren't you?”

 

The creature grinned and nodded, drawing a fearsome looking knife. It hesitated, then raised it to strike him.

 

The blow never came, though; mostly because the Okrani was run down by a bright yellow van. He had to laugh, even as his vision blacked out for a moment.

 

When it returned, Rick was applying pressure to his wounds and trying to get his attention. “Anton, where's Owen?”

 

“He, taken,” he gasped, dropping his head back when the pressure caused the pain to spike. “Some plan, they wanted Tosh and Owen, and not me. They've taken them.”

 

“Anton, focus, you have to stay with me, okay?”

 

He shook his head and smiled. “I'm dead, Richard. Find them, find Jack.”

 

“Jack's gone,” Rick told him, hoping it was true.

 

“With Ianto?”

 

“We don't know.”

 

“Find Ianto too,” Anton coughed and closed his eyes. “You'll make a good director, Richard. I would have been proud to be one of your captains.”

 

Rick held him tighter when he fell still and bowed his head. “Too many already,” he whispered.

 

Orlando squeezed his shoulder and crouched down behind him. “We can't stay here, Rick. Those creatures will return for us.”

 

He shook his head, but laid Anton down. “No, they got what they came for. We need to make sure that Ianto isn't lying dead somewhere, then follow them. Wherever they're taking Tosh and Owen, if they have Ianto, that's where he'll be taken too.”

 

“What about Anton?”

 

“We'll lay him out in the church,” he stood up and looked towards the sea. “Put him in the van for now, we have to look for the living first. Then if...”

 

“If Ianto's lying there somewhere, we can lay them out together,” Martin finished for him.

 

 

Ianto had gone straight to the jetty to find Jack, only to discover that the boat wasn't in yet. Rather than go in search of him, though, he had settled into the shadow of a stack of crates to wait, unobserved, for his errant husband to make a bid for freedom.

 

The sounds of fighting drifted to him on the breeze, and all he could do was hope and pray that his friends were safe. His duty was to Jack, to make sure that the idiot didn't try to go on alone. The boat drew up to the jetty and he held his position, still waiting. He didn't have long to wait after that, though, before Jack's boots thudded on the boards and he was barking orders to the boat crew to go immediately. Ianto took a deep breath and stepped out from his hiding place, hurrying towards the boat. “Jack, you're not going anywhere without me.”

 

The boat had already been undone from its moorings and was starting to pull away from the jetty. Jack hurried to the side and leaned over it, starting at him as if he'd never see him again, but showed no intention of changing his mind. “I'm sorry, Ianto. You know I can't risk you.”

 

“That is not your decision to make,” he shrugged his bag off and swung it from one hand, having to shout now over the distance. “If you don't come back for me, I'll swim for it.”

  
“You can't swim the Mediterranean,” Jack scoffed.

 

Ianto shrugged and slung his bag onto the boat – it was a good throw and a good shot, and it thudded onto the deck right next to Jack. “I know, but you're not leaving me like this.”

 

“Ianto, I'm not, Ianto!” Ianto had ignored him and dived into the water, striking out strongly towards the boat. Over the sound of the water around his ears, he could hear Jack's frantic instructions, then felt a rope splash into the water close to him and a hand close around his wrist.

 

Between them, Jack and one of the crew of the boat pulled Ianto up onto the deck, and Jack dragged Ianto into his arms and held him tightly. Ianto was content to be held against Jack's solid warmth now, letting it chase away some of the chill, which he hadn't anticipated. Jack's lips on his a moment later chased away even more of the chill, as it burned with some of the strange, fierce energy that kept Jack bound to life. It wasn't the first time that he'd felt the energy like this, and hopefully not the last, but it was definitely one of the most welcome. He broke the kiss for long enough to breathe, then surged up again for another.

 

When they finally parted again, Jack was cradling Ianto against him and trembling. “I wanted you safe, idiot.”

 

Ianto rested his head on Jack's shoulder and held him just as tightly. “I promised, I promised I wouldn't let you go on alone. And I don't mean to break that promise.”

 

“Thank you,” Jack kissed his forehead and helped him up. “And now we need to get you into dry clothes. Can't have you coming all this way to die of pneumonia.”

 

“No,” Ianto agreed. “That would completely defeat the object of the exercise.”

 

 

Rick closed the heavy oak doors and leaned back on them, facing towards the sea and, he hoped, Jack and Ianto. “They're beyond our help now. All the evidence suggests that they found each other, and that they're crossing to Tel Aviv now. Tosh and Owen are our priority. We need to find them and find out why they wanted them in the first place.”

 

“How do we follow them?” Martin asked. “We don't have any idea as to where they might be taking them.”

 

“Well, East,” Rick pointed out. “And they're far from subtle. Look at the devastation they've wreaked here. All we have to do is follow the news reports.”

 

“And get as much help as we can,” Orlando added.

 

“That too,” Rick nodded to the van. “As we're saving the world, do you think they'll mind us stealing the van?”

 

“Possibly, but I don't much care,” Orlando patted the side and rubbed at an Okrani-inflicted dent. “I'm going to call him Duncan.”

 

“I like it,” Rick opened the door and got in. “The three hunters, and Duncan. We'll get them out of there, wherever there is.”

 

“Yeah, we will,” Orlando started the engine up and they drove out of the village, into the East.


End file.
